Moody, Alastor Moody: Hogwarts Years
by Mondhellnacht
Summary: Alastor Moody's Hogwarts experience. A coming of age story - drama with a little bit of mystery. Rating for future chapters. WEEKLY UPDATES EVERY FRIDAY. PLEASE REVIEW.
1. Friendships Aboard The Hogwarts Express

**1. Friendships Aboard The Hogwarts Express**

"Come along, Boy, we haven't all day." Calla Moody instructed her younger son imperiously, the cold light in her ice blue eyes brooking no nonsense. Even her sleek shoulder-length white blond looked like ice, shining white under the sunlight.

Ten-year-old Alastor Moody sighed and trotted along after his mother and brother, quite used to the routine.

"Coming, Mother."

"Do watch where you're going!" Aurelius's voice distracted Alastor from his examination of the cobblestone street and the boy looked up in time to see Aurelius pushing a younger tawny haired boy off of him.

The younger boy looked truly sorry. "Oh, so sorry, chap. Didn't see you there." He smiled, obviously thinking that would diffuse the tension immediately.

"Yes, well, watch where you're going next time," Aurelius ordered him before walking away to keep pace at Calla's side, his velvet green cloak fluttering behind him. The tone of his voice hadn't been kind, but it hadn't been blatantly rude or cruel either.

The other boy stared after the straight-backed red-head with a surprised look. Alastor stepped to his side and helped him to his feet.

"Don't mind him, he's always like that."

"How can _anyone_ be like that?" the tawny-haired boy asked, glancing at Alastor, his blue eyes curious and wondering.

Alastor shrugged as he helped him dust his robes off. "Dunno. He's my brother and I've never known him to be any other way."

"Say, are you starting at Hogwarts, too?" the other boy asked, eyes bright with curiosity. It amused Alastor to see how quickly the smile came back to his face. How was it that anyone could look so cheerful like that so easily?

Alastor opened his mouth to reply when his mother's strident voice sounded over the chatter of the crowd around them. "Boy! Come along!"

"Yes, Mother," Alastor sighed as he stepped away, apologetic. "See you."

He turned and hurried off after his mother, dark green cloak billowing behind him, the other boy staring after him curiously. A small girl, about eight years old, suddenly appeared at the boy's side.

"Stew, who was that?"

"Dunno." The boy shrugged and smiled when his sister's hand insinuated itself into his. "I think he'll be starting at Hogwarts this year, though."

The girl brightened. "Maybe he'll be in your House and you two can be friends."

"Maybe, Poppy," Stewart agreed with another sigh. "Maybe."

Their mother's voice floated over to them. "Stewart, Poppy, come along."

"Yes, Mum!" Stewart called back, and then looked down at his sister. "C'mon, Poppy."

She smiled and brother and sister ran over to join their parents to shop for Stewart's school things.

* * *

Alastor Moody sighed happily as he surveyed the school supplies scattered on his bed. The uniforms were new, but weren't the same quality as his brother's. His books were mostly ones his brother had used, but hadn't any need of anymore. His potions kit, cauldron, scales, and telescope were all standard issue, but nowhere near what his brother had gotten. His wand, though, was uniquely his: ash, eleven inches, and pliable with a phoenix feather for the core. His mother hadn't been pleased with the choice and had suggested trying different wands, but Ollivander had calmly explained that no other wand would suit Alastor. Extremely put out, Calla had paid for the wand and dragged Alastor out of the shop while muttering under her breath that Ollivander was quite a strange fellow.

Picking up the box holding his wand, Alastor reverently opened it and picked up his wand. The warm, tingling rush he'd felt upon taking the wand from Ollivander earlier returned and he swished it through the air. A shower of red and gold sparks flew from the wand, filling his room. Smiling, Alastor returned his wand to its box and began to put his school things away.

He considered his life to be normal. He'd never considered that there could be anything wrong with the fact that his brother received all of his parents' attention and he received none. He naturally assumed that the first-born in every family received whatever attention and affection the parents had to give and the rest of the children received little or none of it. There were times when he wished his parents would pay more attention to him than to make sure he was clothed and fed, but they were few and far between.

One thing that unsettled him about his life was the strong emphasis his parents placed on the Dark Arts. The family tree in their drawing room showed what House his ancestors had been in and nearly all been in Slytherin. A few had been in Ravenclaw, but there hadn't been any in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff to his knowledge. It was safe to assume that if there had been any who fell into either of those Houses, they'd most likely been cut right out of the family. He wasn't sure what it was about the Dark Arts, but he didn't like to perform the few spells his parents had deigned to teach him while his brother was away at school. For one thing, he'd never been able to use either of his parents' wands very well. When he _did_ manage to cast the spells, he always felt as though he'd done something wrong- something awful. He never felt right about it.

Sighing, Alastor finished putting his school things away and stretched out on his bed to daydream of life at Hogwarts.

* * *

"Not again!" Aurelius's voice sounded annoyed.

Alastor looked up from getting his and his brother's trunks onto the train to see that the same tawny haired boy with the blond highlights who'd run into Aurelius in _Diagon Alley _had run into Aurelius _again_.

"Frightfully sorry, old chap. Head in the clouds, I'm afraid."

"Just keep out of my way," Aurelius hissed, pushing the smaller boy away.

Alastor left the trunks alone and walked over to help the other boy. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Of course." The boy gave Alastor a cheeky grin. "He needs to be taken down a peg or two."

Alastor stared at the boy. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I am," the other boy replied with a wink, his pert features giving him the air of an imp. "He's a git. I should think you'd have gathered that by now, since he's your brother and all."

Alastor rolled his eyes. "Well, yeah, but-"

"Boy! What are you doing?" Calla's voice stopped Alastor in his tracks.

He slowly turned to her. "Sorry, Mother."

"Get those trunks on the train this instant," Calla ordered him, green eyes hard.

Alastor sighed softly. "Yes, Mother." He trudged over to where the two trunks waited and began to heave his brother's onto the train. His eyes widened with surprise when he felt the other end being lifted. Looking over the top of it, he saw that the other boy had hold of the other end.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping you, of course," the other boy answered matter-of-factly. "You look like you need it."

Alastor smiled slightly. "Thanks, but I've got it."

"No you don't." The other boy pressed forward on his end to make his point. "Now let's get these on the train."

Without another word, they hefted the two trunks onto the train. "Thanks for your help."

"Think nothing of it," the boy answered cheerfully.

Alastor opened his mouth to ask the boy a question, but a sweet voice calling, "Stew! Where are you?" interrupted him.

"I'm coming, Poppy!" The boy, apparently Stewart, called back as he jumped down off the train.

Alastor moved to look out the window of the train and saw the boy talking with a girl no more than eight years old with the same tawny hair and blond highlights. As the two talked, a man and woman approached, obviously their parents. The man was tall, also graced with the same hair coloring, and broad shoulders and Stewart showed signs of following in his footsteps. The woman wasn't quite as tall as the man, with golden hair touched with tawny streaks, and a womanly, voluptuous build, and the girl showed signs of doing the same.

Alastor's green eyes widened when the two adults hugged _both_ children. Why were they hugging both? It was obvious the boy was the elder of the two, and therefore should get all the affection. The family chatted for a little longer and Stewart hugged his sister before turning and bounding for the train, nearly bowling Alastor over when he climbed on board.

"Why didn't you go find a seat?"

"I, er, didn't think of it," Alastor replied, feeling his cheeks grow warm as he started down the train with the other boy, not wanting to admit that he was intrigued by his family.

Stewart cast a speculative glance his direction, but another voice, this time a boy's, distracted him. "Oy! Stew! Over here!"

"Hey, Griff!" Stewart waved to the other boy, who had sandy brown hair, astonishing yellow hawk-like eyes, and wasn't quite as tall. "Did you and Percy find good seats?"

The other boy nodded, smiling. "Yep! I hope you don't mind that we invited someone else to sit with us. Well, more Percy than me, really."

"Not at all, the more the merrier," Stewart answered jovially.

The boy suddenly spotted Alastor, who'd hung back a little. "Who's this?"

"Er," Stewart's cheeks were red when he turned to Alastor. "Sorry, but what _is_ your name, anyway?"

He looked from one boy to the other. Both seemed friendly enough and had treated him better than his own brother did. He offered his hand to Stewart.

"Moody, Alastor Moody."

"Hello, I'm Stewart, but everyone calls me Stew." The blush faded from the other boy's cheeks as he shook Alastor's hand. He inclined his head toward his friend. "This here's my mate, Griffith Hooch."

"Everyone just calls me Griff." Griffith shook Alastor's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Come on, let's sit down." Stewart stepped past his friend and into the compartment.

Alastor glanced at Griffith, who gestured for the other boy to enter. Nodding, Alastor entered the compartment to find two other boys seated side by side on one of the seats.

"Er, hi?"

Introductions were made all around. The golden-haired boy with the winning smile and bright blue eyes was Percival Lockley (who _distinctly _preferred to be called _'Percy'_) and the other chestnut-brown haired boy with the amber eyes was Rremly Redgrave.

"Are you the first in your families to attend Hogwarts?" Rremly asked politely.

"Yeah!" Stewart was the first to answer, grinning cheekily.

"Ditto for me," Griffith added.

Percival laughed. "Third in my family. My brother Jules is third year and Joss is second year. I've also got three cousins here, too."

"I'm second," Rremly smiled his head. "Holden's a third year, too."

The other four looked at Alastor. "What?"

"Are you the first in _your_ family to attend Hogwarts, Al?" Stewart asked.

Alastor shook his head. "No, I have an older brother, Aurelius. You ran into him, remember?"

"Oh, him!" Stewart nodded and hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. "The _git_. I rather put him out of my mind."

The other boys laughed. Rremly looked thoughtful. "What House is your brother in, Al?"

"Slytherin," Alastor answered matter-of-factly. "What about yours?"

"Hufflepuff," came Rremly's prompt reply, lips forming a pleasant smile.

Alastor sent a glance over to Percy to ask the same question.

"My brothers are in Ravenclaw and my cousins are in Hufflepuff," Percy winked.

As the five boys chatted about anything and everything, Alastor found himself laughing more than he ever had in his life. Of course, Stewart, Griffith, and Percy were a comedic trio anyway. The easy, casual way Stewart, Griffith, and Percy bantered back and forth and tossed insults at each other made obvious the fact that the three were boyhood friends. Rremly laughed more easily at their jokes and antics than Alastor, but he wasn't allowed to keep to himself by the other boys.

This puzzled Alastor. He assumed, from past experience, that he, Percy, and Rremly would be ignored because they were not the firstborn in their families, but that wasn't so. He, Percy, _and_ Rremly were included in the conversation, and the casual way they were included indicated to Alastor that this was the _modus operandi_ for the other boys. It got him thinking of the way he was treated at home.

Before he could ponder for long, though, it was time to change into their school robes and get ready to disembark from the train. Jumping down, the boys stared in awe at the darkened train station. They couldn't stare for long, though, because a gruff voice called, "First years this way!"

The trek to the lake passed without comment, the boys looking about them as much as they could. All five stopped short when they saw the castle ahead of them, twinkling on top of a cliff. The gamekeeper didn't let them stop for long, waving them forward after everyone had had a chance to look. When they reached the boats, the announcement that only four students were allowed per boat caused the five boys to stop and exchange looks. After a few moments of indecision Percy and Rremly headed for one boat while Stewart, Griffith, and Alastor headed for another.

Once on the other side of the lake and in a small underground harbor, the five boys regrouped. They were too awestruck to say much of anything, and Griffith was soaking wet because he'd leaned too far over the side of the boat and fallen into the lake. Before Stewart could jump in after his friend, a long tentacle had pushed Griffith, coughing and spluttering, back into the boat. Surrounding the shivering boy, the five friends followed the other first-years to the front doors of the castle, which looked even more impressive up close. The old man with the lantern knocked three times on the door and it was opened by a tall, distinguished-looking wizard in dark blue—almost black—robes embroidered with purple and silver, with neatly trimmed silver hair and goatee.

"The first years, Professor Dumbledore."

"Thank you, Falco," the wizard replied. "I'll take them from here."

As the doors were opened wider, the first-year students, Alastor, Stewart, Griffith, Percy, and Rremly among them, trooped into the castle. The entrance hall was easily larger than the one at Moody Manor, but nowhere near as elegant. Yet, Alastor found it to be more welcoming than the entrance hall of his own home. They were led across the flagged stone floor to a small chamber off to one side of the hall, where Professor Dumbledore explained about the Houses, the Sorting, and house points. After a short wait, Professor Dumbledore returned to escort the first years into the Great Hall. As he lined up in front of the high table with the other first years, Alastor spotted his brother sitting at one of the long House tables. Aurelius's green eyes met Alastor's and the cool, arrogant look in them sent chills down the younger brother's spine.

After the Sorting Hat explained its purpose, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward with a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name you will come forward and sit down. I will place the Sorting Hat on your head and it will Sort you."

As he watched his year mates get Sorted, Alastor wondered which House he would end up in. He knew that his parents would prefer that he be in Slytherin, and he'd accepted that without question, but now he wondered if he truly wanted to be a member of the House of the Serpent. He barely had time to think when the ceremony began.

"Albrecht, Alfons!

A smiling pert-faced chestnut brown haired boy moved to the front. The Hat was placed on his head, and after several moments called out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Following immediately after was, "Albrecht, Maximilian!" A boy identical in every respect stepped forward. "SLYTHERIN!"

Alastor watched as Maximilian went to join his twin at the Slytherin table, sitting just several spaces down from where his brother, Aurelius, sat.

"Breedlove, Belladonna!"

A golden-haired girl with unkempt shoulder length curls, one of the tallest in the year, stepped forward out of the line. Professor Dumbledore placed the large hat on her head and Alastor waited to hear which House she would be put into. "GRYFFINDOR!"

As Belladonna removed the hat and headed for the Gryffindor table, Alastor heard Griffith and Stewart murmuring beside him. "No surprise, her being a Gryffindor."

"Nope, not at all." Stewart agreed. "I heard she's really quite fierce and feisty."

"Graeme, Ross!" A dark haired boy—seemingly the same height as Belladonna—came forward. He was a bit intimidating, his eyes deep and piercing. Within a moment of the Hat's touching his head he was heralded as, "GRYFFINDOR!"

The four remaining boys waited their turns to be Sorted. Soon enough, Professor Dumbledore called, "Hooch, Griffith!"

The sandy-haired boy, shorter than any of the others, trotted over to the stool, his shoes squishing with each step. The Sorting hat slid down over his shoulders and the four remaining boys waited anxiously. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Alastor caught Griffith sitting down beside Belladonna, opening conversation with her. Alastor looked to the Hat just as another name was called out, "Lockley, Percival!"

He couldn't help but notice that Percy had unusual confidence for one their age. The boy sauntered up to the seat with a winning smile. The Hat was placed upon his head. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Alastor watched as Percival made his way to the House table to sit beside Griffith, who introduced him to Belladonna, by the looks of it. He clenched and unclenched his hands, aware that he would be the next of the five to be Sorted. He still wasn't sure if he wanted to be in Slytherin after all. Before he could make up his mind, Professor Dumbledore announced, "Moody, Alastor!"

As he walked over to the stool, Alastor was almost sure a murmur of whispers started up. Sitting down, the Sorting Hat slid down over his head, stopped by his shoulders.

"Well, now, you're going to be difficult to place. Your parents and brother were all in Slytherin, of course, but that's no guarantee that you'll be there, too."

_I don't know what I want anymore_, Alastor thought miserably, torn between pleasing his family and pleasing himself.

"Few children know at this young an age," the Hat replied, its tone almost soothing. "However, should you be a lion or a serpent? That is the question of the moment."

_If I go into Gryffindor, my family will most likely disown me_, Alastor reasoned. _If I go into Slytherin, maybe my parents will actually pay attention to me for once._

"So, what is your final answer?" the Sorting Hat asked.

Alastor sighed. _You can see in my head, which do you see?_

"SLYTHERIN!"


	2. Hogwarts and the Politics of Sorting

**2. Hogwarts and the Politics of Sorting**

Aurelius caught Alastor's eye as the younger boy approached the Slytherin table and he was pleased to see that Aurelius was regarding him with some respect at least. Having been told time and time again that he was to sit with his brother, Alastor automatically sat down beside Aurelius and turned his attention back to the Sorting just as Professor Dumbledore called, "Pomfrey, Stewart!"

Alastor watched as the other boy crossed to the stool and sat down. A goofy grin was upon his face as Professor Dumbledore lowered the Hat onto his head. After a few minutes, the Hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!"

"Good riddance," Aurelius muttered as the boy took the Hat off and trotted over to the Ravenclaw table. Alastor smiled slightly as he remembered Stewart running into the older boy at the train station.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing, Aurelius," Alastor replied innocently, his smile gone.

Aurelius glowered at him before returning his attention to the Sorting. Alastor did the same, just as Professor Dumbledore called, "Redgrave, Rremly!"

The last of the five boys stepped forward to be Sorted, looking a bit pale. The Hat slid down over his head. A short wait later, the Hat shouted, "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"At least he's not in Gryffindor," Aurelius murmured as the younger boy joined the Hufflepuff table. "In the lion's den, as it were."

Alastor listened to his brother with a sinking feeling in his stomach. If he let Aurelius dictate whom he was to associate with, he wouldn't be allowed to spend time with the other four. He wasn't so sure his family's approval was worth losing the friendship of Stewart, Griffith, Percy, and Rremly. He turned back to the rest of the proceedings to distract himself from that uncomfortable thought.

He saw a fair blond, "Stoltz, Felix" called to the front. Within a moment the pronouncement was, "RAVENCLAW!" Felix took a seat beside Stewart who immediately started a conversation, quite animatedly, to the amusement of the other boy.

Then there was the shy looking, sweet-faced, golden-honey haired boy, "Wilkes, Milo," who took a seat. After a few minutes—and a few nervous adjustments to his round gold-rimmed glasses—the verdict was, "HUFFLEPUFF!" Rremly smiled and waved Milo over when he reached the table. Milo blushingly sat down beside him.

Suddenly, a new thought occurred to Alastor: would his friends even want to _stay_ friends with him? They each seemed to be doing quite well with the new Housemates they'd met…

* * *

Alastor was glad when the weekend arrived. His fears about being abandoned had been chased completely from his mind when the others found him in the hall for the first day of class. They fell into step beside him as if they'd always been taking classes together. This was perfect and wonderful for Alastor, as he preferred the companionship of Stewart, Griffith, Percy, Rremly, and even Belladonna to that of his roommates, despite having spent less than a day with the former and almost a week with the latter. Though, he supposed he didn't really mind the Albrecht twins. They were nice enough and seemed to keep to themselves or otherwise spent their time with Felix, the fair blond from Ravenclaw.

Saturday morning, after breakfast, the six of them met in the courtyard, sitting in a corner of it to be out of the way. "Al, what's your brother's problem?"

"What do you mean?" Alastor stared at Griffith, puzzled.

Griffith shrugged, wrapping his cloak tighter around himself. "Well, he's been an arrogant git, but he makes it a point to insult Gryffindors."

"Haven't you heard of the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin?" Alastor asked, surprised.

Griffith shrugged. "I know that it's supposedly legendary."

"Exactly," Percy nodded. "To Slytherins, Gryffindors are their _worst_ enemies. It also goes the other way, too."

Looks were exchanged all around the circle of friends. "So, does that mean _I'm_ your worst enemy?"

"No, of course not," Alastor hastened to assure the other boy. "Most Slytherins believe that, but I prefer to make up my own mind."

Percy clapped him on the back, cheerful as always, "Same here. It'll be nice to tell my family there's at least one good Slytherin out there."

Griffith nodded and Belladonna commented, "Well, _that's_ good news."

Alastor looked at each of them. "To be honest, I find I enjoy your company more than that of my own House."

"Well, you're stuck with us now, Al," Stewart informed his friend as he slung an arm over his shoulders.

Alastor smiled. "Thanks, Stew." He looked around the circle once more. "All of you."

"Alastor Moody!" Aurelius's voice caused them to turn around. The older boy looked furious as he stalked across the courtyard towards Alastor and the others. "What do you think you're doing?"

Alastor gathered up the courage that had almost put him in Gryffindor. "I'm spending time with my friends."

"With the enemy, you mean," Aurelius said coolly, coming to a stop in front of his brother. As usual his brother was polished and cool with his fine new robes, red hair neatly combed and held back by a green ribbon at the nape of his neck, his green eyes and fair face now inscrutable.

Rather than lower his head, as was expected, Alastor met his brother's cold green gaze with a steely one of his own. "They're my _friends_, Aurelius. I won't abandon them because they're not in my House."

"_What?"_ It was difficult to say which of the brothers was more astonished. Aurelius to have his brother call him by his name and stand up to him, or Alastor for actually doing it. "You're betraying your family by doing this, Alastor Moody."

Alastor stubbornly held his brother's gaze, though he'd always been taught to keep his eyes lowered. "I'd betray myself if I turned my back on them, Aurelius."

"I'll inform our parents of this. They will _not_ be pleased to hear about it," Aurelius warned his brother.

Alastor shrugged. "Write to them if you want, Aurelius, but it won't change my mind."

"Very well." With a swish of his cloak, Aurelius turned and strode back across the courtyard and disappeared into the castle.

When Alastor turned back to his friends, they were all staring at him with wide eyes.

"What?"

"Why aren't you in Gryffindor?" Griffith exclaimed.

Heat suffused Alastor's cheeks. His voice was low when he answered, "The Hat couldn't decide which House to put me in. I asked for Slytherin in the hope that my family will treat me better."

"Apparently, it didn't work," Belladonna commented dryly.

Alastor nodded, drawing his cloak tighter around him. "I might just as well have asked for Gryffindor, given how Aurelius just treated me."

* * *

Despite many demands from his parents and brother, Alastor refused to give up his friendship with the other boys. They were the first in his experience to treat him as a person, rather than a thing. He knew Aurelius was watching him, and reporting to their parents, whom he would have to face at Christmas, but he enjoyed the friendship of the others anyway, choosing to face his father's wrath rather than spend his free time alone.

All five of them would be spending the winter holidays with their respective families, and enjoyed the train ride home together. When they jumped down from the train, five voices called different names: "Stew!" "Bro!" "Rrem!" "Percy!" "Boy!"

While the other four lit up when they caught sight of their families, Alastor cringed. His mother's tone indicated that she was not happy and her face, when he saw it, reinforced that impression.

"Come along! Quickly now, Boy!"

"Yes, Mother," Alastor replied, trudging towards her with his and Aurelius's trunks in tow.

His coldly elegant mother nodded curtly and looked over his head to someone behind him. "Ah, Aurelius. Time to go!"

"Yes, Mother," Aurelius replied with a smile that didn't quite reach his green eyes.

Alastor watched with a yearning heart as Calla greeted her elder son with a warm hug, her vivid red hair falling against Aurelius face as she pulled him close. "Come along," she barely glanced at her younger son, "both of you."

"Yes, Mother," the two boys chorused. While Aurelius walked alongside Calla with his head up, Alastor followed along behind them with the trunks, his head drooping.

Glancing around before they went back through the barrier into the Muggle part of the train station, Alastor spotted the other four with their families, talking and laughing. Two girls, both about eight years old, listened with rapt attention while three older boys and three older girls, all about thirteen, chuckled at what they were saying. Heaving a sigh of longing, Alastor walked through the barrier, just before a voice called, "Hey, Al!"

* * *

Augustus was waiting when Calla returned with the two boys. He looked stately and imposing, as usual. His dark green eyes rested upon Aurelius as though Alastor wasn't there at all.

"Aurelius, hello."

"Hello, Father," Aurelius shook his father's hand.

Augustus glanced at Alastor as the house-elves took the trunks before returning his glance to Aurelius. "Go on upstairs, Son. I'll see you in a minute."

"Yes, Father." Aurelius nodded to Augustus, his expression calm and carefully neutral, and kissed his mother's cheek before disappearing up the stairs.

Augustus' dark green eyes, when he looked down at Alastor, were cold and hard. "In the study, now, Boy."

"Yes, Father," Alastor sighed and headed that direction.

Augustus followed him into the study and shut the doors behind them with a sharp snap. "Aurelius has informed your mother and I that you insist on fraternizing, not only with three Gryffindors, but a Hufflepuff as well!"

"Yes, Father, I have," Alastor replied, digging for the courage that had helped him to stand up to his brother. This was difficult because Augustus was a great deal more frightening where Aurelius was only intimidating.

Augustus waited a few moments, as if he expected an explanation, before continuing. "I have told you, _repeatedly_, that you're not to consort with Gryffindors _or_ Hufflepuffs."

"I know, Father." Alastor's voice was low, but firm. He stared at his father's shoes.

Alastor jumped when Augustus slammed a fist onto the desk. "_Why_ do you insist upon disobeying that directive? I have explained why you're not to do this."

"Because I prefer to choose my own friends, Father," Alastor replied, slowly lifting his head to meet his father's furious gaze. "Percy Lockley, Griffith Hooch, Belladonna Breedlove, and Rremly Redgrave have never given me a reason _not_ to be their friend."

"That doesn't matter at all!" Augustus raged. "Friendly or not, Gryffindor was Slytherin's sworn enemy! To consort with _any_ of Gryffindor's chosen is an insult to the memory of Slytherin!"

Alastor fought to hold his father's gaze. "I don't care, Father! They're my friends and I'll spend time with them if I wish to!"

"The boys in your House are more suitable companions for you!" Augustus countered, his eyes practically blazing with fury now.

Alastor's hands clenched into fists at his sides as he replied through gritted teeth, "What about Stewart Pomfrey? You haven't mentioned him."

"He is a Ravenclaw," Augustus answered, calming somewhat. "She was always a friend to Slytherin, and has earned no enmity from our House."

Alastor dug his nails into his palms. "I won't turn my back on my friends, no matter their House!"

Augustus stared down at his younger son, a mix of wonder, fury, and shock on his face at the audacity of the boy. This was the most backbone he had shown in all his life, and it infuriated Augustus. "You'll be punished for this, Alastor Adelais Moody! Make no mistake about that!"

Alastor swallowed hard, but stood his ground. "I accept the punishment, Father."

"Very well." Augustus nodded and summoned the birch rod from the corner of the room. "Trousers down, hands on desk." Biting his lip, Alastor did as he was ordered.

The first stinging slap of the birch rod made him jump, but he did not cry out. To do so would have earned him a stronger punishment. After what seemed like forever, the slaps stopped. "Go to your room, and stay there. I want you to consider your actions more carefully in the future."

"Yes, Father." Wincing, Alastor pulled his trousers up and left the room with as much dignity as possible. After reaching his room, he stretched out on his stomach and thought longingly of his friends. This wasn't the first time he'd been punished in such a manner, and it wasn't going to be the last. He sighed and slowly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The winter holidays were hardly enjoyable for Alastor. He spent most of his time shut up in his room, with one of the house-elves bringing him food and other amenities. He could hardly wait for the holidays to be over and to escape his parents. At least Aurelius was too busy spending time with their cousins to bother Alastor much at Hogwarts. The two weeks seemed to drag by. Augustus and Calla went to Christmas parties almost every night during the week leading up to Christmas, which meant he and Aurelius had the manor to themselves. During these times he actually didn't mind spending time with Aurelius. Aurelius usually arranged fine dinners for the both of them and Alastor was able to have a second helping if he wished, which wasn't allowed when they dined with their parents. After dinner they usually spent hours in the sitting room reading together near the warmth of the fire or else they spent time up in the tower stargazing, which gave Alastor a chance to prepare for his Astronomy class.

After Christmas, though, Augustus and Calla were home every night, and Alastor was required to spend the evenings in their company, even if all he was doing was completing the homework his professors had assigned over the holidays. They wanted him where they could see him. For New Year's, Alastor's parents hosted a party, which Aurelius was allowed to attend, but Alastor was ordered to stay in his room. Having no desire to even _see_ his parents' friends, Alastor was quite content to stay in his room and finish up the last of his holiday assignments.

Finally, finally! It was time to return to school and Alastor looked forward to seeing his friends again. As he walked across the platform with the two trunks, the voice he recognized as belonging to Stewart's sister shouted, "There he is, Stew! Right over there!"

Glancing around, Alastor smiled when he saw the other boy walking over, with his sister in tow. "Hey, Al."

"Hey, Stew." Alastor smiled as he shook the other boy's hand in greeting. "How were your holidays?"

Stewart grinned. "Great, as usual. What about yours?"

"Could've been better," Alastor replied, wincing slightly as he remembered the last beating he'd gotten.

Stewart's grin faded. "I'm sorry to hear that, mate."

Alastor shook his head. "It's not your fault, Stew."

"Stew," the girl tugged on Stewart's hand. "You said you'd introduce us."

"Boy!" Calla's sharp voice prevented Alastor or Stewart saying anything. "Get those trunks on the train this instant!"

"Yes, Mother," Alastor sighed and began heading over to the train once more.

Behind him, Stewart turned to his sister. "Poppy, you'll have to wait to be introduced to Al, all right?"

She sighed and nodded. "All right." She stared after the other boy for a moment before shaking her head and returning to where her parents were chatting with Griffith's mother with Stewart.

This time, Rremly was the one to help Alastor get the trunks on the train. The other boy had just climbed aboard when Calla called, "Boy!"

Groaning, Alastor turned and walked over to where his mother was standing, her expression angry. "Yes, Mother?"

"What did your father tell you about associating with Hufflepuffs?" Calla asked, her voice sharp.

"Not to," Alastor replied sullenly.

"Exactly," Calla nodded, her eyes flashing. "Don't forget it."

"Yes, Mother." Alastor was really beginning to dislike that phrase.

At her nod, he returned to the train and climbed aboard. "Hey, Al!"

"Hey, Percy," Alastor smiled at the other boy. "Which compartment are we in?"

As he followed his friend down the train, he thought, _I won't forget, but that doesn't mean I'll obey._


	3. The Splendiferous Six

**3. The Splendiferous Six**

The next term flew by for Alastor. Aurelius basically left him alone, as did his fellow Slytherins. This was fine with Alastor. He wanted nothing to do with the politics and maneuverings of his House. Alastor spent his free time with his friends, roaming all over the castle and grounds. Rremly often insisted that the six of them study together and the only neutral place they could was in the library. Studying together helped them all around because Belladonna, Percy, and Stewart were quite talented at Transfiguration and helped the others with it. Griffith, Percy, and Stewart were quite the _'charmers'_, while Belladonna, Alastor and Stewart were all quite good at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Potions was another class Belladonna, Alastor, and Stewart enjoyed while Percy took to Astronomy quite well. As for Rremly, he alone was proficient in all those subjects and was the only one who was able to stay awake or pay attention in History of Magic and was also the only one with a green thumb where Herbology was concerned.

During one such study session, Percy, Griffith, and Stewart sat by themselves at one table, supposedly working on Charms, while Alastor and Rremly sat with Belladonna, working on Transfiguration. Alastor finally managed the transfiguration and began working on the essay that went with it. The three were startled when the other three plopped into the three chairs on the other side of the table.

"Do you need help with Transfiguration?" Belladonna asked with a crooked smile, looking from Percy to Griffith to Stewart and back again. She clearly knew the answer would be in the negative.

"No," Stewart shook his head.

"We have a question for Rrem," Griffith added, smiling mischievously.

Rremly looked up from the essay he finishing up. "A History of Magic question?"

"Not that either," Percy shook his head this time.

"Herbology?" Rremly raised an eyebrow.

Griffith shook his head as Stewart leaned forward across the table while Percy looked on with an easy smile. "We know that the entrance to the kitchens is near the entrance to the Hufflepuff dormitories."

"So, we were wondering if you happen to know the exact location of the kitchens," Griffith continued.

Alastor and Belladonna looked at Rremly, who eyed the three boys across from him suspiciously.

Belladonna asked the question that had to be on both Rremly's and Alastor's mind, "Why do you want to know? Do you have a little prank up your sleeve?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Stewart answered, shaking his head.

"No pranks, honest," Percy added.

Belladonna smirked. "Right, and I'm the queen of England."

Grinning, Stewart started singing: _"God save our gracious queen!/Long live our noble queen!/God save the queen!"_

"Shut it!" Griffith covered his friend's mouth with his hand. "Do you want to get us kicked out of the library?" Alastor didn't quite see what Stewart did next, but Griffith's reaction gave it away. "Ow! Stew! Not so hard!"

Belladonna rolled her eyes while Alastor, Rremly, and Percy all covered their mouths to stifle their laughter, but the damage was done. The mild mannered librarian, Mr. Browning, appeared at the table. "If you boys can't be quiet, you'll have to leave."

"Yes, Sir." The boys waited until he'd gone before looking at each other. "Well, Rrem?"

Shaking his head in an amused sort of way, he replied, "All right, fine, let's go."

Whooping, Stewart and Griffith jumped up and raced for the door while Percy sauntered after. Alastor, Belladonna, and Rremly gathered up their books before following them.

* * *

"Oy... I don't think I'm feeling so great... d'you think it might have been something I ate?" Stewart asked, wincing a little and turning his eyes to his friends, one of whom was also similarly wincing.

Both he and Griffith looked imploringly at the others, fully aware of the tiny smirk on Alastor's face as well as the concern on Rremly's. Percy, however, merely tutted and patted their shoulders.

"Quite possibly," was his response.

"Yeah, it could have been any one of the half-dozen éclairs you each ate," Alastor added. "Or maybe one of the dozens of cauldron cakes, two pies each, and two dozen biscuits."

Percy teased, "You both really need to learn when to say no."

Stewart and Griffith exchanged looks and groaned. "Maybe you two should go to the hospital wing." Rremly suggested.

"Yes, Poppy," Stewart replied, rolling his eyes.

Rremly looked puzzled while Griffith and Percy laughed. "Er, Stew, my name is Rremly, not Poppy."

"I know," Stewart grinned, "but that's exactly what my sister, Poppy, would suggest."

Alastor chuckled. "She sounds like a fussy thing."

"Oh, she is," Stewart confirmed with a nod. "Quite a little blighter, but with a heart of gold."

Griffith swatted his friend's shoulder. "C'mon, Stew, let's go to the hospital wing before all the food we ate comes back up."

"Right," Percy agreed and helped steer them in that direction.

Alastor, Belladonna, and Rremly exchanged looks before following them. "Percy, would Poppy really say something like that?"

"Oh, yes," Percy confirmed with a wink. "She knew at the ripe old age of six that she wanted to be a Healer."

Stewart and Griffith had paused to let the others catch up. When they did, Stewart added, "You didn't hear what she did when she was seven, did you, Percy?"

"No." Percy shook his head.

Stewart and Griffith exchanged grins. "I had a pretty bad cold when I was ten, so Poppy, to keep me from getting worse or giving it to our parents or her, locked me in my room and put up a sign on my door that said _'Kwarentine'_." He spelled it out for them and they all chuckled. "She kept me in there for four days, and made sure I got food and drink, but that was the extent of it." He grinned as he added, "I, of course, had a stash of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs to tide me over, and that's why I'm so daffy today."

As the boys laughed over the story, Alastor mused, _The more I hear about Poppy, the more I want to know._ Before he could think too much about it, though, they arrived at the hospital wing.

* * *

"Mr. Moody? May I have a word?" Alastor glanced up at his professor and nodded.

"Yes, Sir." Waiting until the rest of the students had gone, Alastor approached the teacher's desk. "You wanted to see me, Professor?"

The professor regarded him for a moment before speaking. "Indeed, I did, Mr. Moody."

Alastor shifted slightly under the professor's scrutiny. "About what, Sir?"

"You are a fine student, Mr. Moody," the professor told him. "Perhaps my best yet."

Alastor couldn't help smiling at the compliment. "Thank you, Sir."

The professor tutted, shaking his head. "No need to thank me, Mr. Moody."

"I want to, Professor Dumbledore," Alastor answered earnestly. "You're the first to tell me something like that."

Professor Dumbledore gazed at Alastor over the tops of the gold-rimmed half-moon spectacles perched on the bridge of his long, crooked nose, bright blue eyes piercing. "What of your father? Has he never given you a compliment?"

"No, Sir," Alastor shook his head.

Alastor fidgeted once more under the professor's piercing gaze. "I see. Very well. Now, off to lunch with you."

Nodding, Alastor left the potions classroom and headed off to the Great Hall, his heart light for some reason.

* * *

The spring holidays began to approach and Alastor dreaded them. He would be under his parents' constant scrutiny the whole week and it was a pretty sure bet that his father would have the birch switch ready for him, since he had yet to give up his friendships with Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly. He sighed gustily at the thought of getting switched again.

"Al? Is something wrong?" Percy asked, breaking the silence.

"What?" Alastor blinked and looked around the library table at his friends. "Oh, no, nothing's wrong."

Stewart looked skeptical. "C'mon, Al, we're your friends. You can tell us."

Alastor looked around at his friends once more. All five returned his gaze with varying degrees of curiosity and sympathy. "Well, I'm not looking forward to going home for the spring holidays."

"How can you not look forward to it?" Griffith asked, looking puzzled, as the others exchanged looks that Alastor couldn't quite decipher.

Alastor sighed again. "I have no wish for pity, understand, but home doesn't feel like home. My family and I don't get on well."

"Don't get on well?" Stewart asked the question this time, all five of them looking startled.

Alastor nodded reluctantly. "I didn't want to say anything because I don't want you fellows to think I'm looking for sympathy."

"Welcome to the club," Belladonna tossed out, her expression enigmatic.

The other boys looked between Belladonna and Alastor for a few moments before they returned to their studying. Feeling too uncomfortable to stay any longer, Alastor stood and left the library. The others followed shortly afterwards, talking amongst themselves in quiet voices.

* * *

"Hey, Al! Wait up!" Stewart's shout brought Alastor around to see the other boy running down the corridor towards him.

He waited until Stewart had come to a stop beside him, panting. "What did you want to talk about, Stew?"

"Read this." Stewart shoved a piece of parchment into Alastor's hand.

Puzzled, Alastor did as Stewart requested. It was a letter from Stewart's parents to the boy. Alastor's puzzlement turned to delight as he read it. "You're serious, Stew? Your parents _want_ me to visit during the holidays?"

"Yeah!" Stewart confirmed with a nod and his trademark daffy grin.

Alastor's smile was the biggest Stewart had seen on the other boy. "I'd love to!"

"Great!" Stewart grinned himself as he shook Alastor's hand. "Besides, this'll give you a chance to meet Poppy, Ro, Jules, and Joss, since Griff and Percy live nearby and all."

Alastor nodded in agreement as they started down the corridor together. As they walked, though, a sudden thought wiped the smile from Alastor's face. "Wait, Stew, _my_ parents might not agree to it."

Stewart scratched his head. "Can't you just owl them and ask?"

"It's not that simple," Alastor replied, running a hand through his hair. "You've seen the way Mother treats me in public." Stewart nodded silently. "It's the same at home."

Stewart stopped dead, staring at Alastor. "You can't be serious."

"I _am_ serious, Stew," Alastor told him quietly. "I'm fed and clothed, but that's about the extent of the attention I get from my parents."

A smooth voice commented from nearby, "I can help, Alastor."

Blinking, the two boys turned to see a very familiar red haired third-year Slytherin leaning against the nearby wall.

"You _want_ to help me, Aurelius?"

"Of course," Aurelius straightened up and walked over to the two younger boys. "Why shouldn't I?"

Alastor glanced at Stewart, who shrugged. Looking back at his brother, he asked, "What do you mean by help?"

"Well, I couldn't help overhearing that you've been invited to spend the spring holidays elsewhere," Aurelius answered, managing something close to a smile. "Nor could I help overhearing that you're worried our parents will say no."

Alastor nodded. "You overheard correctly, Aurelius."

"So, I was thinking that I could convince Mother and Father that letting you spend the holidays with the Pomfreys would be best for you," Aurelius explained, examining the nails of one hand. "Help you to expand your horizons and so forth."

Alastor blinked. "You're serious? You're not just pulling my leg?"

"Of course I'm serious, Alastor." Aurelius looked surprised that his brother would doubt.

Alastor glanced at Stewart once again, who could only shrug. "Well, all right, then. Go ahead if you want."

"Excellent," Aurelius reached out and squeezed Alastor's shoulder, a little harder than necessary, but he left before Alastor could speak up.

Rubbing his shoulder where Aurelius had squeezed it, Alastor watched his brother go.

Stewart looked at him for a few moments. "Is something wrong with your shoulder?"

Alastor quickly dropped his hand. "No, nothing's wrong with it at all."

"Right," Stewart sounded skeptical, but didn't push the subject. "Well, let's go get some dinner."

Together, the two boys headed off to the Great Hall.


	4. Humiliation and Exultation

**4. Humiliation and Exultation**

Alastor Moody was more excited than he'd ever been in his life. The spring holidays had arrived and he would be spending them with Stewart Pomfrey's family. He'd finally get to meet Poppy, whom he'd heard so much about. He'd also be meeting Rolanda, Griffith's younger sister. Though he'd already met Jules and Joss, Percy's older brothers, and his cousins as well, he looked forward to spending time with them outside of Hogwarts. Rremly was spending the holidays with the Pomfreys, too. The boys had made plans for some grand times together over the next week. Rremly had insisted that they plan some time to do the work assigned to them for the week. The others had made faces, but admitted it was a good idea.

Now, on the train ride to King's Cross Station, Alastor was becoming nervous, a fact that was not unnoticed by the others. "Relax, Al, my parents'll love you!"

"They don't care that I'm Slytherin?" Alastor asked anxiously.

Stewart rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Which House you were Sorted into doesn't matter to them, mate. You're my friend, and that's what counts."

"My parents _do_ care what House my friends are in," Alastor muttered, glancing over at Percy and Griffith, who were playing Exploding Snap by the window. Rremly was reading, as usual, while Belladonna polished her wand.

Stewart, who was sitting across from Alastor, leaned forward. "What was that, Al? I didn't quite hear you."

"Never mind, Stew," Alastor spoke more loudly than he intended, drawing the attention of the others.

Abandoning the cards, Griffith and Percy sat down with Alastor and Stewart. "What's wrong?"

"Al is worried that my parents won't like him because he's a Slytherin," Stewart explained as Rremly marked his place in his book and set it aside.

Griffith gave an exasperated sigh. "Mate, you worry too much."

"I second that," was Belladonna's reply.

"Yeah, just relax. Everything'll be fine," Rremly piped up.

Alastor looked from one friendly face to another, a smile slowly appearing on his own face. "You guys are right. I don't need to worry."

"Good, because we're here," Rremly announced quietly.

They all scrambled out of their robes and into Muggle clothes before jumping down and going to the luggage van for their trunks. Chatting amongst themselves, they followed Stewart over to where his family waited with Griffith's, Percy's, and Rremly's. Belladonna said a quick goodbye before dashing over to her mother, who was so pale that it appeared she never caught sun in all her life. Alastor didn't see his own family, but didn't much care. The less he saw of them, the better. Just as Stewart was about to introduce him to Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey, Calla's strident voice reached their ears.

"Alastor Adelais Moody! What do you think you're doing?"

Fighting the urge to cringe, he turned towards his mother, his eyes automatically seeking the floor. "I'm going to spend the holidays at Liddell, with Stewart's family, Mother."

"And just _where_ did you get an idea like that?" Calla asked.

Risking a glance up at her face, he saw that she was very angry. A movement at her side caught Alastor's eye and he noticed that Aurelius had an odd look on his face. "Er, they invited me and-"

"I don't recall giving you permission to go, Boy," she answered coldly. "Now come along!"

Feeling wretched and humiliated, Alastor glanced apologetically over his shoulder at the other boys, who all had looks of mingled disgust and loathing on their faces. Sighing, Alastor turned and followed his mother and brother from the train station, towing his own trunk and Aurelius's behind him. This was _not_ a good start to his spring holiday.

* * *

That evening, his pride sore as well as his bottom, Alastor banged on his brother's bedroom door. "Come in."

"How could you do this to me, Aurelius?" Alastor demanded of his brother. "You promised you would talk to Mother and Father."

Aurelius raised a sardonic eyebrow at Alastor. "I _did_ talk to them, Alastor. They said no."

"Why didn't you tell me, then?" demanded Alastor, fighting back tears as he remembered how humiliated he'd felt earlier.

Aurelius looked puzzled. "I'm sure I did, Alastor."

"You didn't," Alastor shot back, doing his best to control his emotions.

"Oh," Aurelius looked upset. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I didn't mean for you to go through what you did today."

Alastor sniffed, somewhat mollified. "All right, then. Just make sure you tell me next time, please, Aurelius?"

Aurelius smiled and nodded. "All right."

Nodding back, Alastor returned to his room and wrote an owl to Stewart.

_Stew,_

_Talked to my brother. He said he'd talked to our parents, but they'd said no. He thought he'd told me, but I guess he forgot to. Sorry about the mix-up. Apologize to your parents for me, too, please? I'll see you on the train back to school._

_Alastor_

_

* * *

_

The spring holidays were absolute misery for Alastor. The thought that he'd been so close to spending the holidays with his friends haunted his every waking moment. In an effort to distract himself, he did the homework that had been assigned for the holidays, even going so far as to check and double-check his answers. When he had done all he could in terms of homework, he pulled out his schoolbooks and began to read ahead. By the time Calla took Alastor and Aurelius to King's Cross at the end of the holidays, he was a good one to two weeks ahead in his classes.

"Al!"

"Hi, Stew!" Alastor called back, waving at his friend.

He started over to where Stewart waited, but Calla drew him up short: "Boy!"

"Yes, Mother?" He turned back to her reluctantly.

Before she could begin lecturing him, a smooth, baritone voice inserted itself. "Ah, Mrs. Moody, hello."

"Who are you?" Calla asked suspiciously as Alastor looked up into the kind blue eyes of the man he recognized as Stewart's father.

The kind eyes moved from his to look at Calla. "Forgive me, I'm Patrick Pomfrey."

"Patrick Pomfrey?" she repeated, not offering her hand to be kissed. "I don't believe the name is familiar."

Alastor glanced at Stewart, who was standing at his father's side. The other boy shrugged. "Well, my boy, Stewart, is friends with your son, Alastor."

"He is?" Calla blinked and looked down at Stewart as Mr. Pomfrey placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "Oh, yes."

Alastor stifled a laugh at his mother's discomfiture. "I'm very sorry that Alastor was unable to spend the spring holidays with us. Might he be allowed to spend a month or so with us during the summer?"

"The summer?" Calla repeated yet again.

Alastor was stunned. Spend the summer holidays with his friends? Mr. Pomfrey _had_ to be joking! Glancing up at the man, Alastor noted the friendly smile on his face. "Yes, Mrs. Moody. Spend the summer with Stewart and his other friends."

"I'm sorry, but no," Calla replied firmly.

Alastor felt his stomach drop. Gathering his courage, he asked, "It's because of Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly, isn't it, Mother?"

"Don't ask questions, Boy," Calla snapped at him.

A voice Alastor recognized as belonging to Stewart's sister piped up, "Why do you call him 'Boy'? He has a name."

"Poppy, hush," the woman's voice was just as sweet as the girl's and Alastor looked up at Stewart's mother.

Calla studied the newcomers with some impatience. "Your wife and daughter, Sir?"

"Yes," Patrick replied, sounding proud. "Iris and Poppy."

The girl was holding her mother's hand and looked curiously up at Calla. "Hello, Mrs. Moody."

"Mrs. Pomfrey," Calla returned the other woman's greeting stiffly, clearly angry.

After a tense silence, Mrs. Pomfrey asked, "Pat, did you ask Mrs. Moody if Alastor could spend part of his summer with us?"

"He did, Madam, and I already gave my answer: no." Calla's voice was cold.

Alastor looked pleadingly up at the other two adults. He didn't want to spend the whole summer the way he had just spent the last week!

"Mrs. Moody, please be reasonable. It will be beneficial to everyone."

"How?" asked Calla shortly.

Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey exchanged looks. "Well, your son will meet other children and learn to play with them nicely. Secondly, you and your husband will learn to let go of him. Thirdly, he seems like a nice and perfectly well-mannered boy and we would love for him to spend part of his summer with us."

"Well," Calla actually looked like she was softening. "I suppose it can't hurt him."

Alastor felt like whooping and jumping for joy, but restrained himself to smiling broadly and saying, "Thank you, Mother."

"You're welcome, B-Alastor," she answered stiffly.

A glance at Stewart told Alastor that the other boy was quite happy with how things had worked out. "Come along, Stewart, you'll miss the train."

"Go on, Boy," Calla told Alastor when the boy remained by her side.

Flashing her a dazzling smile, he ran off to join Stewart and his family.


	5. Counting Down 'Til Summer

**5. Counting Down 'Til Summer**

The next term seemed to fly by to Alastor. His grades suffered somewhat because he was looking forward to spending part of his summer holiday with Stewart's family. He was happier than he'd ever been before. Though he didn't realize until he was older that he'd been starved for affection all through his childhood and his friendship with the others fed that starvation. With that need partially sated, he longed for it to be fully sated, and so made attempts to receive affection from his parents and brother. The barest hint of such a thing from any of the three caused Alastor's heart to rejoice. Aurelius seemed to be treating him better without the prompting of any overtures on Alastor's part. As for his parents, Alastor wrote home to tell them that Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly would _not_ be at the Pomfreys during the summer holidays in an attempt to gain attention from them. This was, of course, an outright lie and didn't sit well with him, but his yearning for affection overrode his natural honesty.

"Mr. Moody?"

"I'm sorry, Sir." Alastor shook himself from his thoughts and looked up at Professor Dumbledore, who was standing beside him. "Did you say something?"

The potions professor bent down so he could speak in a voice meant only for Alastor's ears. "You're not focusing on your potion like you should. If you're not more careful, you could hurt someone."

"Oh." Alastor could feel his face growing warm as he looked down at his potion. It looked nothing like it was supposed to. "Right, I'll pay better attention, Sir."

The professor didn't move away. "Please stay after, Mr. Moody. I would like to speak with you."

"Yes, Sir," Alastor replied, beginning to determine what he needed to add to the potion to fix it.

Straightening up, Professor Dumbledore moved away, observing other students' potions as he went. When the bell rang to end the class, Alastor approached the professor's desk.

"Have a seat, Mr. Moody."

Alastor sat down, fidgeting with his books. "What did you wish to speak with me about, Professor?"

"Your grades have been slipping since the start of the term, Mr. Moody," Professor Dumbledore replied, gazing at the boy over the tops of his half-moon spectacles. "They are still quite good, but not to your usual standards."

Alastor looked down at his lap, vaguely wondering why Professor Dumbledore's quietly-voiced statement stung more than any number of switchings from his father.

"I know, Sir."

"Why is that, Mr. Moody?" asked the professor, his bright blue gaze keen. "Has something happened at home?"

Alastor shook his head. "No, Sir, nothing's happened at home."

"Something else, then?" Alastor was surprised to realize there was genuine concern in the professor's voice.

Alastor hesitated, wondering how to explain. Finally, he decided to be honest. "It's because I'm looking forward to the summer holidays."

"You wish to return home that much?" Professor Dumbledore looked surprised.

"No, Sir, not _exactly_," Alastor replied, wondering how much he should tell the Potions professor.

Professor Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, pressing the tips of his long fingers together. "Then why are you looking forward to the summer holidays so much that your grades are slipping?"

"Well, I'll be visiting with Stewart Pomfrey's family," Alastor reluctantly told the professor.

The Potions professor studied Alastor for a long moment. "I see. Well, you'd best be off to lunch."

"Yes, Sir." Rising, Alastor left the potions classroom, wondering why it was so easy to talk with his Potions professor.

* * *

After his talk with Professor Dumbledore, Alastor made an effort to focus on his classes. When he and the other five gathered to 'hang out', they ended up studying more often than not. As the weather was looking so nice, they would go outside and study by the lake. Sometimes they would share stories about their families. Both Belladonna and Alastor never did, but the others made up for it.

"So what did Rolanda do next, Griff?"

"Well, since Mum had locked Ro's bedroom door, she climbed out the window and wandered off to go play with Poppy," Griffith answered Rremly's question, grinning broadly at the memory. "When Stew's mum brought Ro home that evening, Mum was furious."

The boys laughed with Griffith. Belladonna merely smirked and Alastor shook his head as he idly turned a page in his potions textbook.

"She sounds like a feisty one, Griff."

"Oh, she is, Al," Stewart answered for his friend. "So's Poppy."

Alastor shook his head as he stared blindly at his textbook, pondering over his newfound friends. Stewart was quite daffy and quite fond of singing, humming, or whistling _'God Save the Queen'_ and other ridiculously silly songs. Griffith couldn't seem to sit still and often tapped his foot, drummed his fingers, or bobbed his head to some tune only he could hear. Percy was the consummate charmer with his winning smile who loved to recite scenes from his favourite plays- and he had a _particular_ fondness for two muggle playwrights called William Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde. Rremly was, well, Alastor had heard the girls describe him as a _'sweetie pie'_, whatever that was. He always had a smile and a chocolate frog ready for his friends. Except when they had upset stomachs, of course- then it was chicken soup. Belladonna was remarkably tough and forthright for a girl their age, and she was _more_ than capable of taking care of herself. As for Alastor himself, he struggled sometimes to keep calm.

"Al?"

"What?" He looked up from the textbook when he heard Rremly speak.

The others were studying him with varying degrees of concern.

"Are you all right?" Percy asked.

"Of course I am," he replied, looking from one face to the next. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Looks were exchanged among the other five.

"That was a rather hefty sigh you gave there. Are you sure?"

"I'm fine, Stew," Alastor assured the other boy, letting a smile curve his mouth slightly. "Why don't you share another story about Poppy? Like that _'Kwarentine'_ one?"

Both Percy and Griffith laughed at the memory.

Stewart grinned, "All right, then. If you tell her I told you this story, I'll serenade you with _'God Save the Queen'_."

"I solemnly swear I won't tell Poppy where the story came from," Alastor replied, his smile growing.

Chuckling, Stewart told his captive audience about a time when his parents took Stewart and Poppy to see their Aunt Brenna in the hospital, because she'd been injured in a Quidditch game, playing for the _Appleby Arrows_. Poppy had wandered off after visiting with Brenna and, when Stewart and his parents realized she was gone, they got worried and went looking for her. They eventually found her in one of the private wards, chatting away with one of the patients-an old grandmotherly type-as well as fluffing the old lady's pillow and singing a sweet little ditty to her.

"Basically, she was acting like a Healer-in-training," Stewart concluded with a grin.

The others laughed and Alastor asked, "Was this before or after she decided she was going to be a Healer?"

"Before," Stewart replied, grinning.

As it was almost time for dinner, they gathered up their books and headed for the castle.

* * *

The rest of the term passed quickly. Alastor applied himself to his studies and managed to perform well on his exams. Professor Dumbledore commended him on his Potions score, commenting, "It would appear you are focusing better, Mr. Moody."

"Thank you, Sir," Alastor smiled up at the Potions Professor and left the room. It felt like he was floating on air.

Before they knew it, the Leaving Feast had arrived and it was time to announce the winner of the House Cup. "In first place with four hundred and sixty-five points, Hufflepuff." The Hufflepuff table exploded with cheering as black and yellow decorations appeared including a black badger on a canary yellow background on the wall behind the staff table. "Hufflepuff wins the House Cup."

Alastor couldn't help cheering for Rremly and noticed that Percy, Griffith, and Belladonna were cheering from Gryffindor's table while Stewart and Felix cheered from Ravenclaw's. As he tried to wave at Rremly, which was hard because of all the whooping and hollering that was still taking place, Alastor didn't notice that his brother, whom he no longer sat beside at the table, was giving him a rather nasty look. All Alastor cared about was the fact that the Hufflepuffs, who rarely got any glory, had managed to win the House Cup. It seemed the Albrecht twins were of the same mind- clapping and whistling, all smiles.


	6. Liddell and Willow House

**6. Liddell and Willow House**

Alastor stared out the train window, a warm glow of happiness suffusing his entire being. He would be spending the first month of the summer holidays with Stewart and his family. Rremly would be there, too, and even Belladonna would be around as she was to stay with Percy and his family. The six would most likely be inseparable during their time together. However, as King's Cross Station grew steadily nearer, Alastor became more anxious. What if his mother had changed her mind? What if she dragged him away from his friends? He began to fidget, drawing the attention of the others.

"Al, relax. My parents already like you."

"It's not that, Stew," Alastor replied, forcing himself to stop fidgeting. "I don't want to be humiliated again."

Stewart and Griffith, who'd been playing Exploding Snap, exchanged sympathetic looks. "I don't blame you, Al, but you were there when your Mum said yes. I doubt she's going to change her mind at the last minute."

"Thanks, Stew." Alastor smiled at his friend.

Stewart smiled back. "You're welcome, mate."

"_Would_ your mum change her mind?" Percy asked thoughtfully from where he and Rremly were looking over chocolate frog cards and comparing what each had. Belladonna, however, sat on Percy's other side enjoying a Licorice Wand, though she, too, looked at Alastor- her face inscrutable.

Alastor shrugged. "I really don't know. She's never let me stay at a friend's home before." In a softer voice, he added, "It wasn't as if I had any friends in the first place."

"What was that?" Stewart asked, grinning. "I didn't quite catch it."

Alastor mock-glared at his friend, having relaxed a little. "Never mind, Stew."

"We're here," Rremly announced quietly.

The six changed into Muggle clothes (in Percy's case, _stylish _Muggle clothes) and collected their trunks from the luggage van before exiting the train. Chattering like a bunch of magpies, they made their way over to where the Pomfrey, Hooch, Lockley, and Redgrave families were waiting.

"Alastor!"

"Yes, Mother?" He turned to look at her.

Her eyes flicked towards the gathered families before looking down at him. "Remember your manners. Always say please and thank you. We don't want others thinking the Moody family are rude and ill-behaved."

"Yes, Mother." He breathed a silent sigh of relief. "May I go?"

She looked at him sharply, but nodded all the same. "Yes, Boy."

"Thank you, Mother." His nervousness gone, Alastor turned to rejoin his friends. He didn't see Aurelius watching him with narrowed eyes.

The others were talking excitedly amongst themselves when Alastor joined them, feeling shy among so many strangers. "Mum, Da, this is Alastor Moody. Al, my parents, Patrick and Iris Pomfrey."

"Stew, aren't we forgetting someone?" The girl, obviously Poppy, asked, head tilted to one side, her tawny hair now taking on golden highlights rather like her mother's.

Stewart grinned. "I don't think so. Do you, Poppy?"

"Stewart Alden Pomfrey, might I remind you that I can still quarantine you even if you _aren't_ sick?" she shot back. Alastor couldn't quite stifle an amused chuckle. Poppy turned to him. "I'm glad you find this amusing, as you'll be seeing a lot of this sort of thing at our home. I'm Poppy by the way, as my dear prat of a brother has quite forgotten his manners." She smiled brightly, extending her hand to Alastor.

He took her hand and gallantly kissed the back of it. "A pleasure, Poppy, I'm sure."

"Excuse me, Al, but there's more people for you to meet," Griffith interrupted, grinning cheekily. "Mum, Sis, this is Alastor Moody. Al, my mum, Julianna Hooch, and my little sis, Rolanda."

The girl, her dirty blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and her eyes a startling shade of yellow, shoved Griffith. "Little, eh?"

"Yes, little," Griffith returned, shoving her back.

Mrs. Hooch, a tall, lean woman with short spikey hair and yellow eyes, laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Griff, what have I told you?"

"Not to shove Ro because she's my sister," he answered, sighing heavily.

Rolanda stuck her tongue out at her brother and he stuck his out back. "Griffith, Rolanda, that's enough."

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Alastor smiled up at Mrs. Hooch before holding his hand out to Rolanda. When the girl placed her hand in his, he kissed the back of it, as he had Poppy's.

She made a face as she pulled her hand back and wiped it on her skirt. "Ew, cooties."

"Rolanda Peregrin Hooch!" Mrs. Hooch's voice made the girl flinch. "Not another word out of you until we get home, is that clear?"

Rolanda nodded, looking somewhat ashamed.

"Come on, Al, time for you to meet my family." Percy tugged both Alastor and Belladonna over to where his parents, brothers, cousins, aunts, and uncles gathered.

"Everyone this is Belladonna Breedlove and Alastor Moody. Mates, these are my parents, Sylvius and Pandora, my uncle Godffrey Lockhart, and my aunt Luna Lockwood," and here Percy winked, "and you of course know my brothers and cousins already."

They had, indeed, met Percy's brothers—Julian and Josselyn—as well as his cousins, Viatrix and Lucilla Lockhart, and Juno Lockwood.

Belladonna actually managed a smile for Mr. and Mrs. Lockley, and did her best to be at least a _little_ ladylike and polite. "Hello," she said. "I'm pleased to meet you, and thank you for having me over."

"Hello." Alastor nodded to Percy's parents, musing that Mr. Lockley was rather sophisticated with his slightly curled shoulder length barley coloured hair, bright piercing blue eyes, and his narrow pointed nose. He also had to admit to himself that, looking upon Mrs. Lockley, he'd never seen such an elegant and beautiful woman in all his life. She had long curled golden hair that was swept back into a loose bun and kept in place by a stunning antique silver hair comb dotted with amethyst and topped with peacock feathers, drawing out the blue-green of her eyes. She had a stunning sculpted face and her lips were full.

His aunt, Mrs. Lockwood, was similarly stunning with her _long_ wavy silvery-blond hair, ice blue eyes, and finely pointed features. Her daughter, Juno, looked as though she was inheriting her beauty. Even Mr. Lockhart looked remarkably handsome, sky blue eyes drawn out on account of his short sleek strawberry-blond hair. His face was thin, but pleasingly so, and his daughters Viatrix and Lucilla appeared to be taking after him. He also knew, without a doubt, that when Percy and his brothers grew older, they'd be just as handsome as their father.

Belladonna nudged him discreetly, bringing him back from his momentary staring. Alastor nearly blushed, and the families all smiled. Clearly they found him pleasantly amusing.

"Percy's told us all about you," Mr. Lockley said, eyes twinkling. "We find we'd rather like to get to know you better."

Mrs. Lockley smiled, seemingly in perfect agreement with her husband. "If you'd ever like to visit, please don't hesitate to tell us. We'd be more than happy to have you."

Poor Alastor could hardly think of a thing to say except, "Thank you."

A tugging on Alastor's hand reminded him that he had one more family to meet. "Come on, Al."

Alastor laughed as he allowed himself to be towed over to where Rremly's family waited patiently. "All right, all right."

"Mum, Dad, this is Alastor Moody. Al, these are my parents, Edmund and Minna Redgrave. You already know Holden."

Alastor nodded. "Hello." Mr. Redgrave was a man of average height, fine light-brown hair, and sky blue eyes, and appeared very much at home in tweeds. Mrs. Redgrave, just slightly shorter than her husband, had voluminous shoulder-length hazel hair and light-blue eyes and seemed very comfortable in her pleasant light yellow summer dress. They gave off a comforting warmth and seemed so natural and down to earth.

"I'm surprised you didn't kiss Mrs. Lockley's and Mrs. Lockwood's hands." Holden mused with a grin.

Alastor looked sheepish and suddenly worried. "Should I have?" He asked, suddenly wondering if he'd made some kind of faux-pas.

Holden couldn't help a laugh, himself. He smiled and clapped Alastor on the shoulder. "You were fine, Al. Don't worry about it."

"Well, shall we go now?" Mr. Pomfrey asked.

Unable to stop smiling-not that he _wanted_ to-Alastor left platform 9¾ with his friends and their families, even if he hadn't been able to meet Belladonna's sad looking, pale-faced, rail thin mother.

* * *

"Welcome to _Willow House_, Al." Stewart gestured dramatically to indicate the two-story cottage.

Though much much smaller than the mansion Alastor had grown up in, it somehow seemed to be more welcoming than _Moody Manor_. Shaking his head, he followed Stewart into the cottage, vaguely aware that Poppy was behind him. Upon entering, he found himself in a small sitting room, decorated in plum and white: white wicker seats and a plum-colored sofa. Irises and orchids decorated the walls and so on. Through the door on the left was the dining room and kitchen, matching the sitting room in terms of colors and motifs. Through a door on the right, he spotted a restroom and guest room. Near the door on the right was a small stairwell with real vines growing up the balustrade. To the left of the railing, there was a stained glass door that opened onto a small little balcony, complete with one wicker, with wind chimes and hanging wisteria plants at strategic points. Up at the top of the stairs were three bedrooms. "Well, what do you think?"

"I think it's wonderful," he replied, smiling at the little girl.

She smiled brightly up at him, but Stewart's voice prevented a reply on her part. "I hope you don't mind that you and Rrem will be sharing the guest room, Al."

"Not at all, Stew," Alastor replied. "After all, I _do_ share a room with four other boys at school."

Stewart nodded. "Good point. C'mon, let's go outside and play. The others are there already."

"All right." Grinning happily, Alastor allowed Stewart to tow him out into the backyard, with Poppy tagging along behind the two. It was a wide expanse of pastureland with a small garden and an orchard. He'd never seen anything so beautiful.


	7. Summertime Shenanigans

**7. Summertime Shenanigans**

When Alastor awoke the next morning, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, but he didn't panic. It took less than a heartbeat for him to remember where he was: _Willow House_ in Liddell, the Pomfrey home. Rremly still slept in the other bed, his tousled brown hair all Alastor could see of him. Content to stay snuggled under his covers for a few more minutes, Alastor let his gaze wander the room.

The covers of both beds and the carpet were all a deep, rich purple. The walls were whitewashed, with a cherry wood nightstand between the two beds and a mirror on the wall above it. Two paintings hung on the walls above the beds. Over Alastor's was a view of the orchard, with different birds flying in and out of it. The one over Rremly's was a view of the pastureland: a wide expanse of rolling hills, whose grass moved in the wind and the one willow tree's leaves swished in the breeze. In the wall directly across from the nightstand was the closet, with slender double doors that opened out. Though it looked small, it had been enchanted to accommodate whatever was put into it, and one could walk right into it without a problem.

To the left of the closet and right across from Alastor's bed, was a small writing desk. The door leading to the hallway-and the rest of the house-was to the left of Alastor's bed. To the right of the closet, directly across from Rremly's bed, was a bookshelf. The only window in the room was between Rremly's bed and the bookshelf. Drawn to it, Alastor got up and padded over to lean on the windowsill and look out into the orchard. Mr. Pomfrey and Poppy were up and dressed already, picking apples. She was perched in one of the trees, picking apples and tossing them down to her father willy-nilly. Their laughter floated to him on the summer breeze that blew through the window.

Without warning, the door was thrown open and a small hurricane named Stewart Pomfrey burst into the room, startling Alastor and waking Rremly. Stewart sang:

_God save our gracious Queen,  
Long live our noble Queen,  
God save the Queen;  
Send her victorious,  
Happy and glorious,  
Long to reign over us,  
God save the Queen.  
Oh Lord our God arise,  
Scatter our enemies,  
And make them fall  
Confound their politics  
Frustrate their knavish tricks,  
On Thee our hopes we fix  
Oh save us all._

He was prevented from continuing due to the fact that Rremly had seized a pillow and thrown it at Stewart. "Oy! That's not bloody fair! I come in to serenade you and you throw a pillow at me!"

"Stew, did it ever occur to you that some of us _like_ to sleep in?" Rremly asked, his voice slightly scratchy from sleep as he tried to smooth his tousled hair.

Alastor was too busy laughing to pay much attention to anything, and was thus unprepared to have a pillow thrown his way. "Hey!"

"Pillow fight!" Stewart whooped, proceeding to grab a pillow from Alastor's bed, jumping onto Rremly's, and thumping Rremly with it.

Letting out a laugh, Rremly seized the other pillow from his bed and began to retaliate. After only a moment, Alastor grabbed the pillow by his feet and joined the fray, whooping and hollering. The appearance of Mrs. Pomfrey several minutes later stopped the three of them. Alastor glanced at the other two boys, unsure of what to do. Stewart was grinning and Rremly was taking the opportunity to catch his breath. She calmly walked over to Alastor's bed, picked up the remaining pillow, threw it right at her son—toppling him over—and with a smile said, "When you're all finished with your game, do come and attend breakfast like the civilized handsome young men you are." With a wink, she turned and left the room.

Alastor glanced at the other two. "Breakfast?"

"Food!" Stewart tossed his pillow aside and ran from the room.

Exchanging looks, Alastor and Rremly changed as quickly as they could and headed for the kitchen, to find the other four already seated at the table. They slid into the two empty chairs at the table, Rremly beside Stewart and Alastor beside Poppy. He couldn't help grinning a little. This was a great start to the summer holidays.

* * *

The six of them were just finishing up when there was a knock at the front door. "Stew? Would you get the door please?"

"Sure, Dad!" Stewart bounced out of his seat and into the front room.

This confused Alastor. The first-born wasn't supposed to answer doors. That fell to younger children. He glanced at the girl sitting beside him. Well, maybe Stewart had been asked because he had a younger sister, but no younger brother. Alastor nodded to himself and resumed finishing off his breakfast, which was really quite delicious.

"Al?"

"Yes, Poppy?" He looked down at her and couldn't help smiling. She looked so sweet and innocent, but he remembered the imp throwing apples hither and yon for her father to chase down.

She studied him for a moment, her gray eyes boring into his brown ones. "Would you like some more?"

"No, thank you," he answered, his smile broadening.

Mrs. Pomfrey commandeered his attention. "Is it not good?"

"Oh, no, Mrs. Pomfrey," Alastor hastily replied. "It's quite delicious. I just don't eat a whole lot anyway."

She nodded as she flicked her wand and sent his plate over to the sink, her smile very understanding. "I see."

"Al! Rrem!" Stewart re-entered the kitchen with Griffith, Percy, and Belladonna close behind. "Let's go!"

Though puzzled, Alastor let himself pulled from his seat at the table and out the back door. "Go where?"

"The _secret_ place," Stewart told him in a mysterious whisper, a daffy grin on his face. "Only Griff, Percy, Rrem, and I know about it, but you and Bella will, too."

Percy nodded as the six of them trotted down the slope leading to the pasture. "Yes, we showed it to Rrem when he stayed over the spring holidays. Really wish you could have, too."

"So do I," Alastor murmured, but the trio, acting rather boisterous because of the summer day, didn't seem to hear it. Only Rremly and Belladonna noticed. None questioned him about it, at least, for which he was glad. Rremly just wrapped his arm around him as they walked, while Belladonna patted him briefly on the shoulder.

They romped their way across the pasture: racing each other, leap-frogging over one another, and generally just being boys (Belladonna was considered one of the guys). Alastor had never felt so alive.

* * *

The days passed quickly, with the six spending most romping and playing outside, sometimes joined by Percy's brothers and cousins. Poppy and Rolanda would often tag along after the boys, and they seemed to really like Belladonna. What surprised Alastor was that no one minded! In fact, they were _encouraged_ to tag along. If one of the girls happened to lag behind, one of the others would go back and offer the girl a piggyback ride. It wasn't always the girl's brother who would give her a piggyback ride, either. Percy, Stewart, and Griffith treated Poppy and Ro like sisters. Even Rremly and Belladonna gave a piggyback ride more than once. Alastor wasn't sure if he should or not, but one afternoon, Poppy lagged behind and Alastor was the only one who noticed. He glanced from Poppy, to the others' retreating backs, and back again.

Coming to a decision, he walked back to Poppy and asked, "Want a piggyback ride?"

"Yes, please." She smiled brilliantly up at him. With only a little scrambling and one false start, they headed off after the others. "Thank you, Al."

He smiled. "There's no need to thank me, Poppy."

"I must be awfully heavy, though," she commented, her breath tickling his ear.

He shook his head. "Not at all. I could carry you all day."

"You might have to." Though her voice was soft, he heard what she said anyway because her mouth was next to his ear.

He waited a few beats before asking, "And why would that be?"

She waited so long before answering that he wondered if she would. Finally, she replied, "I think I sprained my ankle."

"Perhaps I should take you back to the house so your mum can take a look?" he suggested, making to turn back.

Her grip tightened around his neck. "No, if you could just carry me...?"

"As long as you promise to let me take you to your mum once we get back," he answered firmly.

He felt her nod. "I promise."

"All right, then, on we go." He continued after the others.

* * *

It turned out that Poppy _had_ sprained her ankle. She was forced to stay off it for a few days, but the others catered to her every whim so eagerly that she was never bored. The others were more than willing to give her piggyback rides if she wanted them and all seven of them were happy to fetch and carry for her. Alastor was fascinated by the sweet way she accepted the attentions of her brother and friends and thanked each of them. Stewart would often entertain his sister with wonderful mad-cap stories, or sing silly songs to pass the time. Griffith would joke and perform silly dances as Stewart sang to make Poppy laugh. Percy was happy to read to Poppy for hours on end, his already-deepening voice soothing and lyrical as he recited sonnets, poems, and plays. Rolanda would bring her friend flowers or berries from the fields around the three houses, often scratched and juice-stained from her efforts. Rremly would bring Poppy food and drink, offering her a shy smile and pat her hand, shoulder, or back comfortingly. Belladonna often came and talked about their latest shenanigans and was more than happy to show off any scratches on her arms or legs as well as any and all tears on her pants (she adamantly refused to wear skirts or dresses). Alastor himself was content to merely spend time with her, talking about anything and everything. He would sit near her during the stories, listening quietly, and watching.

His favorite part of his time with the Pomfreys arrived every Sunday afternoon. As they had their tea, Stewart and Poppy would entertain the rest of them by singing or playing instruments. Sometimes, Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey would join in. All four had wonderful voices and Alastor seemed to just soak the music up. More than once, he'd fallen asleep to the sound of singing or music playing and woke to the sound of Stewart singing _'God Save the Queen'_ at the top of his lungs. Overall, it was a wonderful month and Alastor was sad to see it come to an end.


	8. Home, Sad Home

**8. Home, Sad Home**

When his month with the Pomfreys was up, Alastor and the others came into Willow House for lunch to find Augustus waiting in the kitchen, looking quite displeased. Alastor stopped short when he saw his father, the smile on his face fading rapidly.

"Hello, Father."

"Hello, B-Alastor," August answered, his voice cold. "Get your things, it's time to go home."

Alastor nodded before going into the guest room. He quickly gathered his things and bundled them into his trunk. His father was not happy with him for some reason and it would not be wise to antagonize him. While he was double-checking all the nooks and crannies of the room to make sure he didn't leave anything behind, Rremly came in.

"Al?"

"Yeah, Rrem?" Alastor asked, carefully tucking the book of plays Percy had given to him into his trunk.

"Is it really bad for you?" Rremly asked after hesitating a moment. "At your home?"

Alastor shrugged, not looking at his friend. "It's not _real_ bad."

"But it's not _good_ either," the other boy commented quietly; having heard what Alastor had _not_ said.

Alastor sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah, you're right."

"Is there anything the rest of us can do?" Rremly offered quietly.

Alastor nodded as he shut his trunk, and then look at his friend. "Write to me."

"Of course! A promise then," Rremly replied, nodding, that sweet smile on his face again.

At that moment, Augustus entered the room, looking angry. "Boy, what's taking you so long?"

"Nothing, Father," Alastor answered quickly. "I just finished packing."

Augustus glanced at the trunk briefly. "Come along, then."

"Yes, Father." Alastor grabbed one end of his trunk and followed his father from the room.

When he felt the other end of the trunk being lifted, he glanced over his shoulder. He smiled when he saw that Rremly was carrying the other end.

* * *

As soon as the family house-elf, Lolo, had taken Alastor's trunk, Augustus grabbed Alastor's upper arm and towed him into the study. He released Alastor's arm with a jerk, sending him crashing to the floor.

"You said the Gryffindors and Hufflepuff wouldn't be there."

"Well, they weren't _supposed_ to be there," Alastor replied, slowly getting to his feet.

Augustus backhanded Alastor across the cheek, the ring with the Moody family crest on his middle finger breaking the bone. "You should have left when you realized they were there."

"No, Father." Alastor glared defiantly up at his father, ignoring the acute pain in his cheek. "They're my _friends_."

He found himself on the floor again, his other cheek throbbing, but not broken. "Find new friends."

"I can't change my friends as easily as I can change my socks," Alastor told his father quietly, but firmly.

Augustus glared down at his son before pointing at the desk, "Trousers down, hands on desk."

* * *

"Oh, Master Al, why do you do this?" Lolo asked as he tended to Alastor's broken cheekbone.

Alastor winced slightly as the bone mended. "I have no choice, Lolo. I can't give up friendships on a whim."

"But Master Al should try to please Master Moody," Lolo counseled, switching to the bruised cheek. "Like Master Aurie does."

Alastor made a sound of annoyance. "Aurelius, _always_ Aurelius."

"Should Lolo punish himself?" Lolo asked, looking up at Alastor with scared brown eyes.

Alastor shook his head. "No, Lolo, you don't need to punish yourself."

"Is Master Al sure?" Lolo questioned.

Alastor sighed and headed for the door. "Yes, Lolo, I'm sure."

* * *

Alastor's next stop was his brother's room. "Hello, Alastor."

"Did you say anything to Mother and Father?" Alastor demanded.

Aurelius blinked, apparently startled by the abrupt question. "Of course I have. Are you referring to something in particular?"

"Did you say anything about Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly being at _Willow House_?" Alastor asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Aurelius thought for a moment. "Well… I may have let something slip by accident."

"How would you know?" Alastor was puzzled. As far as he knew, Aurelius hadn't even _known_ about Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly.

Silently, Aurelius reached into a drawer of his desk and pulled out a stack of letters that Alastor recognized immediately. He'd sent them to Aurelius during his time with the Pomfreys. Aurelius flipped through the letters and pulled one out.

"Look at this one."

Alastor took the letter and read it in silence. Handing it back to Aurelius, he said, "You don't slip up, you do things _deliberately_. Why did you tell Mother and Father?"

"I didn't mean to," Aurelius looked contrite. "They asked about your friend Pomfrey and who his friends are. They caught me out."

Alastor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Great."

Aurelius merely shrugged. "Anyway, I still have some work to finish up."

Knowing a dismissal when he saw one, Alastor left his brother's room. The next month and a half was going to be absolute misery.

* * *

Alastor gingerly settled himself in his desk chair. His bottom was still a little sore from the switching his father had given him earlier. Looking at the roll of parchment in front of him, he loaded his quill with ink and began to write.

_To everyone:_

_I'm sorry if Father didn't make a good impression. He..._

Alastor crumpled that one up. He had no idea what the others thought of his father. No need to apologize for something he wasn't sure had happened. He pulled out another piece of parchment, loaded up his quill, and started writing again.

_Hello all:_

Just writing to let you know that I made it home fine. Stew, please thank your parents for letting me stay with you. I had a wonderful time and hope that it won't be the last...

No, that was no good, either. He didn't want them to think he was hinting at anything, even if he _was_. Sighing, he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment, loaded up his quill, and began writing once more.

_Hey everyone!_

_I just wanted to let you know that I made it home in one piece. No troubles there, really. Stew, please pass my thanks on to your parents for letting me stay for the month. It was really fun and I enjoyed getting to know Poppy, Ro, and Percy's family. My favorite part was the Sunday afternoons._

_I don't expect much to happen here between now and September. I guess I'll be seeing you at King's Cross. Maybe Diagon Alley. Who knows? Thanks for all the fun memories!_

Alastor.

Alastor sat back and read the letter over. He nodded to himself. He didn't sound pathetic, didn't sound like he was looking for sympathy, and didn't sound like he was looking for another invitation to spend time with the Pomfreys again. Or even from one of the other families. He even _sounded_ cheerful, though he felt far from it. He winced as he stood up, remembering why. Rubbing his sore posterior for a moment, Alastor walked over to the owl his mother had grudgingly bought for him.

"Vertu?"

He hooted softly, looking at him somberly. "I need you to take this to Stew for me, all right?"

The owl hooted again and held his leg out so Alastor could tie the letter to it. "Thanks, boy, I really appreciate it." He carried him to the bedroom window and watched him fly into the distance. Stewart would reply at least, and maybe Rremly.

Leaning on the windowsill, Alastor stared out at the night sky, almost wishing he could fly away himself. As he stared, a dark blot caught his attention. Frowning, he watched it grow larger. After a few moments, he realized it was an owl and it was headed towards _his_ window.


	9. Friends You Can Count On

**9. Friends You Can Count On**

Leaning on the windowsill, Alastor stared out at the night sky, almost wishing he could fly away himself. As he stared, a dark blot caught his attention. Frowning, he watched it grow larger. After a few moments, he realized it was an owl and was headed towards his window. He moved back as the long-eared owl swooped through the window and over to Vertu's perch.

"Hello, there. Who do you have letters for?"

The owl hooted and lifted his leg to show the packet tied to his leg. Alastor stared. "For me?" The owl hooted again and Alastor quickly removed the packet. "Thank you, very much."

The owl hooted a third time, drank some water and ate the Owl Treat Alastor offered him. Untying the packet he found a packet of sweets, a small volume, and a bunch of letters. Alastor was quite surprised to find not one, not two, not even three, four, or five letters waiting for him, but eight! Eight letters! All at once! Feeling a little dazed, the boy sat down at his desk and looked at each envelope, smiling when he saw that a name had been written on each to inform him who had written it. He decided to open the one from Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey first, since they _had_ been his hosts.

_Dear Alastor, _

_Patrick and I were sorry to see you go. We enjoyed having you over and we hope that you may be able to come again soon. I do hope we've not offended your family. Please extend our greetings to them and assure them we loved having you and wish you to come again. I believe my son has informed you that I wish to knit a sweater for you. Please send your size and color post haste so that I may start on that as soon as I can. We hope you are doing well and we hope to see you at Kings Cross._

_Sincerely,_

_Iris and Patrick Pomfrey_

Alastor frowned as he finished reading the letter. Apparently, his father hadn't left a favorable impression after all. Come to think of it, though, Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey couldn't have offended Augustus. Augustus wouldn't have minded, as Stewart was a Ravenclaw. He was honored that she wished to knit a sweater for him. He'd seen the ones Stewart, Griffith, and Percy had received for Christmas and admired the excellent craftsmanship. He would certainly look forward to seeing them again.

Alastor found his hand moving to pick up the letter with the mad scrawled writing. He found himself unfolding Stewart's letter, his eyes eagerly scanning the contents.

_Al, _

_Oy! How could you go and deprive us of your fine company, old boy? I'd been planning on serenading you with __**'Rule Britannia'**__ for a change, and then you biffed off. I hope we haven't upset your family. Mum and Dad say that you are always invited back. You're part of the family now as it is, mate. Oh! I almost forgot to tell you, Mum wanted to know your sweater size. Since you're part of the Pomfrey family now, she wants to knit a sweater for you. So, if you could be so kind as to send your size and favorite color, she'd appreciate that and not pelt me with a pillow for almost forgetting to ask. Anyway, we miss you, old chap. I suppose we'll have to wait to see each other at Hogwarts again. Take care._

_~Stew~_

He chuckled softly at the thought of Stewart singing anything other than _'God Save the Queen'_. Every morning, without fail, Stewart had come into the guest room and begun to sing _'God Save the Queen'_, with Alastor or Rremly throwing a pillow at him. Without fail, a pillow fight would result. He would have to let the Pomfreys know that his father hadn't been angry because of them, but he would _not_ mention the truth. Griffith, Percy, Belladonna, and Rremly didn't need to know that. He was already looking forward to the end of the holidays and seeing his friends again. At least the letters would make the next month and a half easier to bear.

The next letter he picked up was the one from Rremly. He'd been sure of getting one from him because he'd specifically spoken to him about writing, though it had been a pleasant surprise to get a letter from everybody.

_Al,_

_I'm sorry you had to leave. I hope you haven't gotten in trouble with your family. Really, we worry for you, mate. I sat down with Percy and Poppy to write this letter, figuring it might cheer you up to get this just as you returned home. Though, it was Percy's idea to get __**everyone**__ to write letters so you'd be entertained for quite a while. We miss you mate, and we can't wait 'til we see you again at Hogwarts. I hope things don't get rough for you, if they do write me and I'll send some sweets and Percy will send another of his favourite plays to get your mind off things._

_~Rrem~_

Alastor felt himself smile. Rremly could always be counted upon to come through on his promises, as he'd more than come through the promised letter and package of sweets. It truly warmed his heart and he knew that when he next saw Rremly, he was going to hug him.

Shaking his head slightly, as if to clear it, he opened Griffith's letter next, wondering what Stewart's partner-in-crime had to say.

_Al,_

_Say, Mate, I hope we haven't offended your father. He seemed pretty cross for some reason. Anyway, it was loads of fun to have you with us. I look forward to seeing you at King's Cross. Maybe Diagon Alley when we go school shopping. Mum likes you. Says you're real nice and quiet. Said something about wishing I was the same, but I wasn't really paying attention. I almost wish you could have spent the entire summer here. See you at the end of summer if not before!_

_Griff._

Alastor grinned at the obvious enthusiasm of his friend. Griffith had always been energetic and his letter reflected that. He was glad Mrs. Hooch had liked him. She was really nice, in her own way. A bit brusque, but she'd never made him feel unwelcome in her home the couple times he'd spent the night at the Hooch's house. It was actually a haven for Quidditch fanatics, to tell the truth. Not that he'd minded, of course.

Shaking his head, amused, Alastor picked up Percy's letter next, wondering what the most confident and charming of the lot had written.

_Al,_

_Merlin's pants, it's such a shame you had to leave so abruptly. Leave it to the Slytherin-Gryffindor enmity to get your father's knickers in a twist… actually, you know, it'd be best that we don't talk about your father's knickers- or really anything about your father. I just hope you'll be all right. Do write any old time- and I mean it: __**anytime**__, you hear? We're used to getting owls at odd times. Do you have any idea how many girls write to my brothers? I told them they should just start a bloody fan-club already and have done with it. Then they had the nerve to tell me that I shouldn't tease them because it'll happen to me, too. Oh, Merlin, I hope not… That'd be dreadfully awkward and inconvenient. Anyway, enough of that! I just want to say that I hope you enjoy the play I sent you. I rather think you'll like it._

_Here's to seeing you at Kings Cross! _

_~Percy_

Alastor couldn't help a laugh. He could just imagine Percy surrounded by mountainous piles of letters. Shaking his head, still amused, he picked up the volume Percy had sent: _Peter Pan _by J.M. Barrie, another Muggle play it seemed.

Next in line was Belladonna's letter. _This ought to be good. _

_Al,_

_Your dad's a right ray of sunshine, isn't he? If he keeps on with that sour expression on his face, it might just stick that way. Mum used to tell me that whenever she caught me rolling my eyes or smirking. Hasn't happened yet, but something tells me that it __**will**__ happen with your dad. Though, I have to admit, that'd make one wicked carving on his gravestone. Don't you think? But seriously, if anything happens, and he's hard on you- just write me. I'll come down and hex him. I've just mastered the Bat-Bogey Hex. He won't know what hit him. I don't care if we can't do magic yet. Some rules are meant to be broken, and besides, I can't imagine they'd send a student to Azkaban on account of __**one**__ incident of underage magic._

_See you at Kings. _

_Bella_

He couldn't help his surprise as he read her letter. Belladonna was really ready to go to battle for him. Alastor could just see it now- he could see her tailing his father, getting to know where he goes about and when. She'd wait for just the right opportunity and she'd wham him with it. As tempting as it was to let her do it, he knew he wouldn't tell her. There was no integrity in letting someone else fight his battles for him.

He now unfolded Poppy's letter, curious to see what she had to say.

_Alastor,_

_I was sorry to see you go so soon. I do hope you're doing all right and that we haven't offended your family in some way. Just know that my family and I were more than happy to have you with us. You've a longstanding invitation with us, just remember that. We don't stand on ceremony as Mum says. The moment you had gone, I sat down at the desk and wrote this out, hoping that it would get to you just as you returned home. You'll have to tell me if Spooky made good time. You'll be seeing a lot of Spooky believe me. You'll be getting so many letters from us that there might even be a parchment shortage because of it. _

_~*Poppy*~_

For some reason, the thought she had been sorry he had to leave warmed his heart, almost soothing it. Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey had mentioned several times during his stay that he was more than welcome to stay with them again, for which he was very grateful. It was nice to know that there were people out there who _wanted_ his company rather than tolerated it.

Alastor picked up the Rolanda's letter next, wondering what _'Hurricane Hooch'_ had to say. She had more energy than her brother and tried the hardest to join in the boys' games.

_Al,_

_It was nice to meet you, after all Griff's said about you. You're just like Griff said, only better, if that made any sense. Thanks for the piggyback rides you gave me. Oh, Mum just told me that you should feel free to visit anytime you're in Liddell. I think it'd be loads of fun to see you again. I'll be going to King's Cross with Mum and Griff, so I'll see you then. Oh, better go, it looks like the boys are getting ready to do some flying. See you!_

_Ro._

Alastor's grin didn't go away as he read Rolanda's letter. So very like her: quick, to the point, and ended abruptly. Not that he minded. She could be tiring at times. When it came to piggyback rides, Rolanda had been the most restless passenger of the two girls. Her feet had been in motion almost constantly and she'd kicked him by accident more than once, although she'd always been quick to apologize afterwards.

Alastor smiled. He'd enjoyed his time with the others immensely. Getting to know the girls had been a wonderful experience and he certainly looked forward to see them again. As for having fun without the others, well, he doubted that would ever happen, especially after the way his father welcomed him home.

In spite of that, he sighed contentedly, as if he'd just eaten a good meal, rising and preparing for bed. Once he had done so, he gathered the letters together into a neat stack, ready to be answered in the morning. His fingers lingered on Rremly's a little longer than necessary as he set it on top of the stack. That being done, he turned out the lights and slipped into bed. Nestling his cheek into his pillow, he let sleep overtake him. Maybe the next month and a half wouldn't be so bad after all.


	10. Shyest of the Shy

**10. Shyest of the Shy**

As he'd expected, the last month and a half of Alastor's summer holidays was utter misery. If it hadn't been for the letters he received from his friends on a regular basis, Alastor didn't know what he would have done. He'd gone to Diagon Alley with his mother and brother, hoping to get a chance to see his friends, but Calla had kept such a close eye on him that he'd been unable to get away and seek out his friends. Alastor suspected his father had told her to.

In any case, he didn't get a chance to speak with his friends until he went to King's Cross Station to catch the Hogwarts Express. As he was towing the two trunks across the platform, the others surrounded him and somehow managed to get both trunks on the train without fuss. Once they were taken care of, he began to chat with the others, catching up with them.

"Sung _'Rule Brittania'_ yet, Stew?"

"No, mate," Stewart's grin was cheeky, quite the impish expression on his face. "That's reserved especially for you"

"How's your ankle, Poppy?" Alastor asked the girl, squeezing the hand that found its way into his.

She smiled brilliantly up at him, that serene light in her storm grey eyes. "It's been fine for months, Alastor, but thank you for remembering."

"You're welcome, Poppy," he answered sincerely before looking around at the others. "Read any new plays yet, Percy?"

The dapper boy smiled, cobalt blue eyes lit with mirth. "Ten more, actually."

Everyone laughed and Alastor turned to Belladonna. "Hexed anyone lately?"

"I had two targets in mind, but then I decided they were hardly worth the effort," she winked, lips forming a smirk as per usual.

"So, Ro, what's the highest you've flown now?"

"Twenty feet, Al!" Rolanda answered proudly from her perch on Griffith's shoulders.

Alastor reached up and tugged on her ponytail. "Twenty feet! Imagine that! You'll be a pro in no time."

"Stop that!" She batted his hand away.

Alastor turned his attention to Griffith. "How about you, Griff? Had anymore trouble with her?"

"No more than usual." The other boy shrugged.

"Hey!" Rolanda lightly bopped her brother over the head. "I'm still here, you know!"

Griffith rubbed his head where his sister had hit him. "See what I mean, Al?"

"Yeah, I do," Alastor replied with a grin. "Well, Rrem, how was the rest of the holiday?"

The other boy smiled his trademark smile, the expression in his eyes soft. "It was fine, but I really wished you could have stayed."

"Stewart! Poppy!" Mrs. Pomfrey's voice announced her arrival. "Oh, Alastor, how are you?"

He smiled up at Mrs. Pomfrey, wishing his own mother was as concerned about him. "I'm fine, Mrs. Pomfrey. Thank you for the letters."

"You're quite welcome, Alastor," she replied, brushing a hand over his hair, almost as if she were his mother. "Will you be joining us for Christmas, too?"

Alastor's face lit up. "I'd love to."

"_Alastor_." Calla's voice deflated Alastor like a balloon.

He sighed. "If Mother and Father agree."

"Thank you, Alastor," Calla told him curtly.

He nodded. "You're welcome, Mother."

There was a pause, in which Calla stared down her nose at Mrs. Pomfrey, her eyes steely, but in any case the pause was interrupted by Stewart, "Oy, mate, let's get to our compartment," he suggested, indicating the train door where Rremly had moved to stand by.

"An excellent suggestion, Stew," Alastor replied, climbing aboard without bothering to say good-bye to his mother.

Rremly followed Alastor and the two boys set off to look for an empty compartment while the others said goodbye to their families. Without warning, Rremly quietly asked, "It's because I'm a Hufflepuff and Griff, Percy, and Bella are Gryffindors, isn't it?"

"What?" Alastor was startled by the question.

Rremly stopped and turned to look at Alastor. "Your father, the way he acted when he picked you up."

"Yes, unfortunately, but _please_ don't tell the others," Alastor requested urgently as the others approached.

Rremly nodded, patting him on the back. "My lips are sealed."

"Thank you, Rrem." Alastor turned and continued down the train.

"Bit late for that," Bella pointed out sardonically, coming up behind them. "But I already knew. Don't worry, I won't say a thing."

Alastor could feel the relief sweep through. "Thanks."

He stopped and glanced in one compartment. A boy about Rremly's height with golden hair, luminous grey eyes, and round gold rimmed antique glasses sat alone in the compartment, reading a rather large volume. Alastor rather found him familiar, but he was at a loss as for the boy's name.

"Have you found a compartment yet, Al?" Stew asked.

"Well, there's a boy in here." Alastor replied. "Not sure if we should disturb him."

The others exchanged looks and shrugged, but Rremly was the one who came to stand near to Alastor, looking into the compartment.

"Oh, that's Milo Wilkes," Rremly smiled. "We often study together in the dormitory. The common room's really too noisy for him."

"Too _noisy_ for him?" Griffith raised an eyebrow.

Rremly shot him a look. "He's shy and doesn't like crowds."

"Shyer than _you_?" Stewart smiled.

"Is that _really_ so surprising?"

"No, but it's amusing. Sweet, even," Percy mused, looking at Milo through the glass. "_What?_"He asked when everyone turned to look at him.

"I'll ask him if he wouldn't mind some company," said Rremly. He opened the door and a few steps inside. "Hi, Milo," he smiled. "We were wondering if perhaps you wouldn't mind some company."

Milo looked at Rremly and then at the rest of them, and though he managed a tiny smile, Alastor could tell he was a bit overwhelmed by the sight of them.

"Oh- well, yes- I mean _no_, I… I w-wouldn't mind some company," he stammered a bit, blushing, obviously a bit embarrassed, nearly dropping his book which Rremly caught and handed back to him and took a seat beside him.

"Lovely," Percy smiled brightly, obviously hoping to put him at ease as he took the seat on Milo's other side. This made Milo blush even more.

Alastor moved inside with the others. They all took their seats and after Rremly went around introducing them, they all asked questions and tried to get Milo comfortable with their conversation. They told him about themselves, and soon they learned a few things about him.

They learned he was the youngest of his family which consisted of his parents and two sets of twins: Cornelius and Cedric were in sixth year while Morwen and Ariadne were fourth years. They found out that just like Percy's and Alastor's families, the Wilkes' were also an old venerable family that went back _many_ centuries. Also, they discovered that while Milo's older siblings were active and very much involved in Quidditch, he very much preferred to watch. Similarly, just as Percy's brothers and cousins were split between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, Milo's siblings where split between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor—Milo was the first of the family to be Sorted into Hufflepuff and Percy the first in two generations to be Sorted into Gryffindor.

Milo was also an avid reader who particularly loved to read and _write_ plays, which _thoroughly_ pleased Percy who let out such a gasp, almost as if he'd just discovered a chest filled to the brim with treasure, quite startling Milo- and, indeed, everyone else. Before they could ask what that gasp was about, Percy immediately began to pepper Milo with questions over his favourite plays and playwrights, as well as questions over what Milo liked to write about, and what other books Milo liked to read.

Poor Milo could barely get one response out before another three questions were asked. Eventually Belladonna cast a silencing charm on him. Percy wasn't at all happy about that… until he saw Milo smile, obviously relieved. It appeared Percy rather liked that smile.

* * *

"Nice chap, isn't he?" Stewart asked the others as they followed the older students to where a veritable fleet of horseless carriages waited to take them up to the castle.

Alastor nodded. "Yeah."

"_Really_ shy, though," Griffith commented as Stewart climbed into the carriage.

"I know," Stewart agreed as Alastor climbed in after Griffith.

Belladonna climbed in next. "Percy sure took a fancy to him."

"I just hope he doesn't fluster Milo too much," voiced Alastor.

Just minutes before Milo, Rremly, and Percy had taken the previous carriage. He remembered how Milo had looked, trying very much to avoid looking at Percy directly. Venturing away from conversation about Milo, they all talked about nothing in particular as the carriage wound its way up the front drive. Still talking, they climbed out of the carriage and made their way up to the castle. Once inside, they made their way to the Great Hall, where they split up to sit at their House tables.

"Alastor!"

"Coming, Aurelius," Alastor called back, reluctantly walking over to join his brother.

"You know, it's really admirable the way you stick by your friends, they're lucky to have you," Aurelius told Alastor when he reached him. He spared a small smile, or at least the closest thing to a smile, before heading to his seat at the Slytherin table, leaving Alastor looking at his retreating back in surprise.


	11. A Very Special Birthday

**11. A Very Special Birthday**

"Al?" Alastor scrambled to a sitting position at the sound of the voice and looked at the door to the dormitory.

A grin spread across his face when he saw the fourth-year with wheat coloured hair lounging in the doorway, his hazel eyes good-natured as always. Even at fourteen, he was the typical tall, lean, and rangy cowboy.

"Hi, Danny."

"What're you doing here all alone?" Daniel asked, a very faint drawl in his voice due to the fact that he'd grown up in the American state of Arizona.

Alastor felt his cheeks grow warm as he rose from the bed. "Well, feeling kind of sorry for myself."

"Why's that?" the older boy asked, raising an eyebrow to emphasize the question.

Letting his shoulders droop, Alastor confessed, "Well, today's my birthday and nobody seems to have remembered."

"It's your birthday?" Daniel sounded surprised, but Alastor _knew_ he'd told his only Slytherin friend about it just the week before, when he'd given Daniel a toy guitar that played country music for the older boy's birthday.

Alastor nodded, rolling his eyes. "Yes, and you know it."

"You're right, I do," Daniel admitted before changing the subject completely. "Why don't we go for a walk?"

Alastor blinked, surprised. "A walk?"

"Yeah, you know, putting one foot in front of the other?" Daniel's hazel eyes were bright with amusement. "I hear people have been doing it for thousands of years."

Alastor was grinning as he joined his friend. "Have they now?"

"Yeah, they have," Daniel answered with a laugh, patting Alastor's shoulder in a brotherly way that Aurelius never would have done.

Together, they left the Slytherin dorms and meandered their way up to the third floor. Alastor blinked when they came across a door opposite a tapestry of a man getting clubbed by trolls.

"I don't think I've seen this door before."

"You haven't?" Daniel asked, looking down at his companion.

Alastor shook his head. "No."

"Well, in that case, let's see what's in here," Daniel suggested before turning the handle and gesturing for Alastor to go in first.

Stepping into the room, Alastor was surprised when a chorus of voices shouted, _"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"_

"You remembered!" Alastor exclaimed as his friends surrounded him, pressing gifts into his hands.

Stewart grinned even as he rolled his eyes. "Of course we would! You're our mate. We could never forget your birthday!"

"Thank you, thank you!" Alastor repeated over and over again quite happily, even as he sat down to begin opening presents.

Rolanda sent a _Wigtown Wanderers_ jumper via Griffith, that team being his favorite. Mrs. Hooch sent a plate of her brownies. Griffith, himself, gave Alastor a fairly large wood carved plaque with the four House mascots carved into it. Holden presented him with a box of Honeydukes sweets. Mr. and Mrs. Redgrave sent a box of assorted cakes from their shop, _Sweet Nothings_, and a pair of grey knitted mittens and matching scarf. Rremly gave Alastor a two-way mirror ("In case things get too much for you at home," the other boy explained for Alastor's ears alone.) and a scarf he'd knitted himself with the colors of the four houses and their mascots all woven together in unity.

Percy presented him with two spectacular ensembles that he and his brother Josselyn (otherwise _'Joss'_) had designed together. One was a set of bottle green trousers, waistcoat, frock coat, and cloak—all embroidered with silver flourish designs—and the other suit was of deep vermilion with gold embroidery that didn't all clash with Alastor's unkempt shoulder length right hair.

"Consider yourself an honorary Gryffindor," Percy grinned.

Poor Alastor couldn't find any words. It was too wonderful a gift and too wonderful a gesture. Percy laughed and hugged him in the end, taking Alastor out of his misery, which Alastor was more than grateful for. Then there were the gifts from the rest of his family: Quidditch trading cards from Julian (though everyone called him _'Jules'_), a year's subscription to _Quidditch News_ from Viatrix and Lucilla (otherwise Trix and Luci), and a poster of the _Wigtown Wanderers_ beaters, Anthony Brisby and Jarvis Lovelace—who Alastor quite admired—from Juno.

Belladonna's gift was _Mischievous Defense: 100 Hexes for Defense and Mischief_ by Artemis Brookstone. "You'll find page thirty-four quite useful." He turned to the page in question to see it was a section on the Bat-Bogey Hex. Alastor couldn't help but laugh and told her he'd certainly bookmark it.

Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey had sent Alastor a knitted jumper, a basket of fruit, and a songbook. Poppy's gift was a batch of apple tarts and a sketchbook full of sketches featuring _Willow House_, the countryside, and their family. Stewart's present was a pair of socks that he urged Alastor to try on right away. Once Alastor had, Stewart tapped them with his wand and muttered an incantation of sorts. Suddenly, the socks started doing a tap dance routine and Alastor was a helpless passenger. After the laughter died down, he presented Alastor with his _real_ gift: a large portrait of the six of them—Alastor, Stewart, Percy, Griffith, Belladonna, and Rremly—standing together in view of the castle wearing their school robes, all looking happy. To say the least, Alastor _loved_ it, and he rather imagined he might stare at it for hours just to see what their portrait selves would do.

Daniel's gift was a beautiful harmonica with a promise to teach the younger boy how to play _'Home on the Range'_. There was even a gift from Milo—_Quidditch_ _Through The Ages _by Kennilworthy Whisp—who smiled a bit nervously, as if worrying whether or not Alastor would like it. Even more surprising was the fact that Alastor received gifts from Alfons and Maximilian Albrecht. They gave him a book about potions used in conjunction with Defense Against the Dark Arts: _Potions for Defense_ by Andranos Withering.

However, this gift was delivered through Daniel who informed him that Maximilian was in the hospital wing. He'd been attacked by the Gryffindor Ross Graeme who mistook him for Alfons. When Alfons found out what happened he'd gone to avenge his brother. Another spectacular duel ensued between Alfons and Ross which landed them both with a detention when Professor Morrigan caught them.

Naturally he'd heard about the duels, which were already considered legendary. Alastor wasn't altogether certain who sent out the first hex, but he could imagine it wasn't Alfons. Alfons was generally polite and nice to everyone- unless of course they have wronged him, his brother, or his friend Felix. Alastor felt it must have been Ross, as he wasn't terribly nice to others. He was usually guarded and kept to himself, but when something or someone happened to annoy or upset him, he certainly let the world know about it. Alastor had seen it for himself. How often had he seen Ross glare at Alfons or Maximilian were quick to answer a question in Potions.

From what he knew, the twins were _quite _intelligent—excelling in all their classes with ease—and from what he could see they never seemed to have to study hard or put in great effort into their work. Even in Herbology—which they both weren't terribly fond of—they still pulled in top marks. The same went for their friend Felix. Alastor figured that would be enough to annoy anyone who was jealous and had to work _hard_ for their marks, but yet, it was just _Alfons_ who attracted Ross' ire. To say the least, Alastor couldn't understand it at all.

With a prod from Daniel, Alastor was brought back to the present. The lights were dimmed and suddenly made out three figures carrying in a large vanilla cake topped with strawberries, twelve candles, and the four House crests etched into the corners with coloured frosting. Apparently Rremly, Stewart, and Percy had disappeared to the kitchens to fetch the cake without him realizing it. After a rather… _interesting_ rendition of the birthday song—which Stewart embellished with new hilarious stanzas—they all tucked in.

Several hours later, Alastor and Daniel were the last to leave the room, each laden with the gifts Alastor had received.

"So, how are you feeling now, Al?"

"Much better, Danny, thanks," Alastor replied, glancing back down the corridor. "Say, the door's gone."

Daniel laughed. "It's only there when it's needed, Al. Don't worry."

"Well, all right, then," Alastor answered doubtfully.

Talking and laughing, they made their way back to the common room. It had been, by far, Alastor's best birthday yet.


	12. A Very Very Cool Yule

**12. A Very Very Cool Yule**

The next morning Alastor woke to find the Albrecht twins weren't abed. With a glance around he could see the others were still asleep. He looked to the clock. It was seven o'clock. _I suppose they like to have their breakfast early._ Easing out of bed, he began to dress. Outside the sun shone through the clouds, and it was promising to be a beautiful weekend.

After tossing on the knitted jumper Mrs. Pomfrey had given him for his birthday, he made his way down to the Great Hall. From what he could see there were only a smattering of students at their tables. All he found was one first year when Alastor looked over to the Slytherin table. For a few moments he was a bit confused, wondering where they could be- but then he caught sight of them sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Felix, wearing Ravenclaw scarves over their Slytherin robes. They looked up at him a moment later—almost as if they felt Alastor's gaze—and waved him over. Alastor made his way over, still not quite certain what he thought of the twins.

"Sorry we couldn't be there for your party," said Maximilian. He still couldn't tell them apart, but the monogram _M_ on his robe certainly helped.

Alfons smirked, patting the space between himself and Maximilian, "Yes, we heard it was fantastic."

"Yeah, it was," nodded Alastor. "I really want to thank you for the gift. I look forward to reading it." Truth was, he would have started reading it last night, but _Quidditch Through The Ages_ quite lured him away from it.

"We're glad you like the gift," Maximilian said with a smile. "But, before more is said, we'd like to introduce you to our dear friend, and _'Brain Twin'_ as Fonzie is fond of saying: Felix Stoltz."

Felix held out his hand from his side of the table. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Herr Moody."

"Um… just call me Alastor- or Al, that's even better," said Alastor, shaking his hand.

"All right, _Al_," Felix winked, his overall expression and demeanor quite calm and steady.

Alastor chuckled briefly and then turned back to Maximilian. "I heard from Danny that you'd been hurt? You're all right now?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he assured Alastor, his expression just a bit wry, "Herr Graeme—"

"_Schweinhund_," Alfons corrected him as he passed over a dish with a little bit of everything to Alastor followed by a goblet of pumpkin juice.

Maximilian rolled his eyes, "The _Schweinhund_ only got me just below the shoulder," indicating the spot directly above his shoulder blade on his left side. "But I'm lucky. It didn't leave a mark."

"I, however, left my mark on the Schweinhund," Alfons smiled wickedly, indicating a spot below the collarbone on his left side. "The things that he said to me, one would think he had a vocabulary of only twenty-five words."

Alastor was a little amazed that Alfons managed to do that without suffering any hits himself, but there was something else bothering him. "Er… what exactly does _'Schweinhund'_ mean?" He attempted to pronounce it the same way the twins had, but he knew his delivery was _far_ from flawless.

"In English: _pig-dog_."

"I'll have to remember that," Alastor mused, having to admit that it was a bit funny.

For his part, Alfons smiled, the epitome of cleverness and charm. "That's your language lesson for today," he winked.

"Thank you, you're so kind," Alastor chuckled, deciding to just go ahead and ask his question. "You know, it's really none of my business, but why is it that you both fight so much?"

Alfons did not appear to be so surprised or upset by the question. He crossed his arms over his chest, smirking again. "We fight because Herr Graeme is a Schweinhund. He doesn't like that I'm Slytherin_, _German, and open-minded. He seems to think I should be ashamed."

"He also doesn't like that Fonzie always has top marks and that he made the Quidditch team in first year," Maximilian commented.

"But that's the same for all three of us," remarked Felix, "but it's Fonzie who he focuses on."

"I'm just special like that, but really, it's because I give back what he gives out," Alfons just rolled his eyes. "And for this reason, I should warn you," here he let his gaze fall on Alastor, his vivid blue eyes twinkling, "perhaps you should take a small mirror with you where you go and check the corners before you proceed." He smirked. "_Constant vigilance_."

_Constant vigilance. I like that. It's pretty good advice at least._ "Maybe I will," he laughed, deciding that, since they weren't put off by his questions, he'd ask what he'd wanted to ask from the start. "I'm curious, why are you both wearing Ravenclaw scarves?"

Now it was Maximilian who responded, his smile a bit playful. "The same reason Percy gave you that splendid Gryffindor-esque ensemble."

Alastor didn't need any further explanation. This was something he understood all too well.

"You know, I should really ask Percy to make something similar for me," Alfons mused. "I would love to see the look on the Schweinhund's face when he sees me wearing it."

"You really seem to _like_ annoying Ross," Alastor simply had to say.

Alfons laughed, "There is a curious American expression that can perhaps explain this: _'If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.'_"

* * *

Alastor didn't think anything could top the surprise birthday party Daniel organized for him, but he forgot about Christmas and the myriad of possibilities that holiday had in store. He received a letter from Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey, reminding him of their invitation to spend part of the Christmas holidays with them. Rather than ask Aurelius to speak to their parents for him, Alastor wrote to them himself, having no desire to have a repeat performance of last spring. After sending the letter, he sought out his friends and found them in the library, since it was raining pretty heavily. Pausing in the doorway, he counted the number of heads and came up two short. Belladonna was studying with the twins, and Felix, while Milo helped Percy with his Transfiguration homework, which was _strange_ as he knew Percy _rarely_, if ever, needed help in the subject. Rremly sat near the two, but was clearly going through his Herbology homework.

Alastor frowned as he approached the table and slid into the seat across from Milo and Percy and next to Rremly.

"Where are Stew and Griff?"

"They raided the kitchens again," Rremly explained, looking at Alastor as Milo caught Percy looking at him again and tried for what seemed like the umpteenth time to get him to pay attention. "Why do you ask?"

Alastor looked around at all the curious faces. Quietly, he explained about the Pomfreys' invitation for Christmas. "I just sent an owl to Mother and Father asking if I may go."

"You didn't ask your brother to ask them for you?" Rremly asked him, sounding mildly surprised.

Alastor shook his head. "No, I figured I was better off asking them myself."

"Good luck on that," Percy inserted, giving him a sympathetic smile.

Alastor sighed and nodded. "Thank you, Percy." Silently, he added, _'I'm going to need it.'_

_

* * *

_

Alastor was practically bowled over when two nine-year-old girls crashed into him after he climbed down from the Hogwarts Express and hugged him as one. He did his best to hug them both at once.

"Poppy! Ro!"

"Hi, Al!" Rolanda was the first to reply, disentangling herself from the group hug. "I'm so glad you'll be spending Christmas with the Pomfreys!"

He laughed, tugging on her ponytail. "So am I, Ro."

"Are you really staying for both weeks?" Poppy asked, the next to disentangle herself, gray eyes shining with hope.

He smiled as he gently brushed her tawny hair—that was taking on more and more gold highlights—out of her face. "Yes, Poppy. Mother and Father gave me permission to stay for both weeks."

"Wonderful." she smiled softly up at him.

"Stew!" Suddenly the two girls attacked him much as they had Alastor.

As they greeted him, a hand landed on Alastor's shoulder. "Boy."

"Yes, Mother?" He turned to look up at Calla, who had a stern expression on her face.

Aurelius at her side, she told him, "Don't do anything to bring shame on the family name or you _won't_ be allowed to spend time at your friends' homes again."

"Yes, Mother," he replied, glancing swiftly at his brother. He couldn't read the other boy's expression.

His mother's voice drew his attention. "Good afternoon, Mrs. Pomfrey."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Moody. Thank you for letting your son visit us again." Mrs. Pomfrey was accompanied by Stewart and Poppy, both of whom were smiling broadly.

After a moment, Calla managed to say, "You're welcome."

"Are you sure you don't mind if he stays both weeks?" Mrs. Pomfrey asked, sounding a little worried.

Calla nodded stiffly. "I'm sure. Come, Aurelius."

"Yes, Mother." Aurelius followed Calla from the station, dragging his trunk along behind him.

Mrs. Pomfrey turned to Alastor. "Well, Alastor, how was school?"

"It was fine, Mrs. Pomfrey," he replied, smiling, as the others began to gather around him. "Thank you very much for the birthday gifts."

She smiled and smoothed his brown hair back from his forehead, much as he wished his own mother would. "You're quite welcome, Alastor." She looked at the children gathered around her. "Shall we go, then?"

"Yes!" was the general outcry and Mrs. Pomfrey, assisted by Mrs. Hooch, Mrs. Redgrave, and Mrs. Lockley started shepherding the children from the platform.

* * *

Alastor couldn't quite understand why the winter holidays were so much fun for him that year. During the week leading up to Christmas, a majority of the time was spent outside with Stewart, Griffith, Percy, Rremly, Belladonna, Poppy, and Rolanda, just playing in the snow. They had snowball fights, built snowmen (and snowwomen), made snow angels, and just generally had fun. Griffith, Rolanda, Belladonna (who was staying with Griffith this time), and Percy went to their homes around midday while Alastor, Poppy, Stewart, and Rremly trooped into Willow House to dry off and warm up in front of the fire with warm cider or hot chocolate before eating dinner. The evenings were spent gathered in front of the fire, playing games, talking, or listening to Mr. Pomfrey play song after song on his violin. Sometimes Stewart would play, either alone or with his father. Poppy might sing a song or two, and Iris joined in a few times with her cello, oboe, or clarinet. Alastor and Rremly were content to sit and listen, although they were encouraged to join in more than once.

Rremly went home Christmas Eve so he could spend Christmas with his own family. Alastor fell asleep wondering what the next day would bring. As usual, he was awakened by a very familiar clear tenor voice singing _'God Save the Queen'_. Without even opening his eyes, Alastor pulled his pillow from under his head and threw it in the direction the singing was coming from. There was a soft _'flump'_ and the singing stopped. The pillow was returned to Alastor none-too-gently. "Hey!" Grabbing the other pillow, Alastor began hitting his 'assailant' with it.

"_Boys!_ It's three-thirty in the _morning_!" The last statement was made by Mr. Pomfrey, who had heard his son's dulcet tones. He quite literally levitated Stewart out of the room, smiling all the while. "Now you should be able to get some more sleep, Alastor." He winked and left the room.

Stewart could be heard down the hall, most likely still floating inexorably to his room, "Oy! Put me down, Dad!" There was a moment of silence, and then there was a slight thump, apparently Stewart had landed on the floor. "I didn't mean like that!"

Alastor could hear father and son laughing. Even as he settled down into bed, Alastor felt a pang of jealousy. Why couldn't he have had a father like Patrick Pomfrey?

* * *

That Christmas was, by far, the best in Alastor's life. All twelve years of it. The presents he received from his friends and their families were the best he'd received and more than he'd ever gotten in previous Christmases put together. To say the least, he was a very happy boy. Boxing Day arrived and brought Rremly, Felix, the Albrechts, and even Milo, which Percy was ecstatic about. Rremly, Felix, and the Albrechts would be staying for the rest of the holidays. Poppy and Rolanda immediately took a liking to Felix, the twins, and Milo, quite adopting them as they had Alastor and Rremly. The second week passed in a similar fashion to the previous week, although Rremly did insist that they spend time doing the work assigned to the students over the holidays. When the nine students were doing the work, Poppy and Rolanda occupied themselves elsewhere.

At one point, Alastor, craving some time for solitude, went out to the orchard and climbed into one of the bare apple trees, wrapping his new dark blue and silver embroidered winter cloak (courtesy of Percy and Joss) tightly around him. As he perched there, he remembered his first morning at Willow House, when he'd looked out the bedroom window to see Poppy and her father picking apples. If he concentrated on the memory hard enough, he could hear echoes of their laughter in his mind.

It had seemed idyllic and perfect, but he'd come to realize that life was hardly ever perfect. There was always something to ruin the perfection. He'd thought everyone's parents were like his, but his time with his friends' families indicated that they weren't. He was even beginning to wonder if he should cling so tightly to his own family. They'd never shown any worry or care about him as a person. Their only concern was that he would do as he was told and not bring shame on the family name.

The only one in his family who seemed to care even the least little bit about him was his brother, Aurelius. Though, Aurelius never seemed to come through when Alastor counted on him to. Whenever plans fell through, it was because Aurelius had either said too much or not enough. It was why Alastor had chosen to owl their parents himself.

He'd originally been invited to spend one week with the Pomfreys, but had told his parents both weeks in his owl to them. They'd agreed, so Alastor had owled the Pomfreys and requested that he stay for the two weeks. Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey had made sure Alastor's parents agreed to the two weeks before saying he was welcome to stay. Rremly was spending both weeks, but had gone home for Christmas Day. Alastor had chosen to remain with the Pomfreys, a decision his parents didn't contest.

When Alastor really thought about it, his friends and their families were a better family to him than his own. Mrs. Pomfrey, Mrs. Hooch, Mrs. Redgrave, and Mrs. Lockley made sure he had enough to eat, was dressed warm enough to go outside, and generally fussed over him as if he was one of their own children. Mr. Pomfrey, Mr. Redgrave, and Mr. Lockley didn't hesitate to include Alastor on trips with their own sons. Mr. Hooch was sadly deceased, but Alastor was fairly certain he would have acted the same way.

It wasn't just Alastor, either. Belladonna, the twins, and Felix were all fussed over by the women and included by the men. They were, in effect, nine children with four mothers and three fathers. Even Mr. and Mrs. Wilkes, whom he met briefly when they brought Milo over, were _exceedingly_ kind to him and the others.

"Al! Come down! It's time for dinner!" Poppy stood at the base of the tree, calling up to Alastor.

He blinked and looked around. Twilight had settled over the land as he'd been up in the tree and he finally noticed that he was shivering. "I'm coming, Poppy."

"Good, I thought I'd have to climb up there to get you down, and I would too, but mother wouldn't be happy," she called back as he began to climb down.

He dropped the last five feet to land in a heap in the snow. "I doubt she would, as climbing isn't very ladylike."

"No, but it's certainly more fun," she told him seriously as they started toward the house.

He laughed but made no comment. When Poppy's small hand found his, he said nothing, but squeezed it reassuringly.


	13. The Medicinal Properties of Friendship

**13. The Medicinal Properties of Friendship**

"Moody?" Alastor groaned and pulled his covers over his head. "Moody, what's wrong with you?"

Alastor gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. "Go away, Malfoy."

"All right, fine." His cousin, Cassius Malfoy sounded hurt, but Alastor was too busy trying not to cough up a lung to care.

Alastor heard the other boys leave the dormitory, but he couldn't bring himself to get up. His head was pounding, his arms and legs felt weighted down, and he could barely breathe. He drifted off to sleep before he could muster up the energy to get up.

"Al?"

"Danny?" Alastor's eyes opened slightly to see the other boy standing over his bed, looking concerned. "What brings you here?"

Daniel shook his head. "I haven't seen you all day, so I asked Cassius and he said you hadn't gotten up this morning."

"He's right, I didn't," Alastor replied before a coughing fit seized him.

Daniel looked even more concerned. "That's it. Up with you. We're going to the H-Wing."

"All right," Alastor answered on a moan as Daniel turned the covers back. "I'm not sure I can walk, though."

"Who said anything about walking?" Daniel asked as he conjured a stretcher and levitated Alastor onto it. "There we go, nothing to it," he smiled, levitating the stretcher and guiding it as he made his way downstairs to the common room.

The last voice Alastor expected to hear called, "Riley! What are you doing with him?"

"Taking him to the hospital wing, Moody," Daniel answered, his voice still quite easy-going.

Aurelius sounded suspicious as he came to a stop in front of Alastor and Daniel. "Why?"

"Take a look at him, what do you think?"

"What's wrong, Alastor?" Aurelius actually sounded concerned!

Alastor stared at his brother in surprise. "Dunno. That's why Danny's taking me to the Hospital Wing."

"I'll come along then," Aurelius offered, looking a little worried.

Though exceedingly surprised Aurelius's look of concern, he nodded. Daniel and Aurelius exchanged a glance and the both of them nodded as well. Aurelius went forward to open the door while Daniel kept up focus on the levitation as he followed Aurelius out.

"Thanks, both of you."

"Think nothing of it, partner, just doing what any good person would do, ain't that right, Aurelius?" Daniel glanced over at him.

Aurelius turned his gaze to Al, and then to Daniel, his eyes flicking from both. "Yes, quite right." His lips twitched over Daniel's drawl.

Alastor coughed again, great hacking coughs that seemed to rip themselves from his chest. "Oh, Merlin, that hurt."

Daniel winced. "Sure sounded like it," he responded in a softer voice.

Aurelius nodded, his eyes on Al. "We should move faster, he sounds terrible," he said, glancing at Daniel.

"Sure thing, boss." Daniel quickened his pace. He and Aurelius moved quickly down the corridors and up along several flights of stairs. "All right there, Al?" Daniel asked when they'd nearly reached their destination.

Alastor nodded. "I'm fine, Danny." He was very glad to see they were just about there.

* * *

"Acute bronchitis," Madam Arden, the school nurse, announced after examining Alastor thoroughly. "Medicine and bed rest for you, young man."

Alastor nodded, wishing only to go back to his bed in the dormitory and sleep. "May I go, Madam?"

"Leave my hospital wing when you're this sick?" she exclaimed, appearing shocked that he'd even suggest such a thing. "You're staying right here where I can keep an eye on you."

Alastor sighed, resigning himself. "Yes, Madam Arden."

"I'm glad you have the sense not to argue," she commented before bustling off to her office, presumably to get the medicine.

Alastor looked over to where Aurelius and Daniel had been waiting patiently. "Danny? You'll tell the others?"

"No worries, partner." Daniel saluted with a grin. "Just get better, all right?"

Alastor nodded as Aurelius moved forward. "I'll let Mother and Father know as well."

"Thank you, Aurelius." Alastor smiled faintly up at his brother. He wasn't sure what was going on with Aurelius, but he rather liked being fussed over by more than his friends.

Nodding, Aurelius briefly squeezed Alastor's hand and left the Hospital Wing. Sketching another salute, Daniel left as well, just as Madam Arden returned with Alastor's medicine.

"I'm glad to see those boys have some sense. Here, drink."

"Yes, Madam Arden." Alastor drank the dose without comment, though he shuddered at the taste.

"What were you expecting, gillywater?" She tutted as she had him lay back down and tucked the covers in around him. "Now, sleep."

"Yes, Madam Arden." Alastor sighed as he let sleep wash over him like a wave.

* * *

When he awoke, Alastor was surprised to find he had a visitor. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Hello, my boy," the potions professor answered calmly, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.

He stared at his professor for a few moments before asking, "Not to be rude or anything, but why are you here, Professor?"

"I only wished to see how you were faring, Mr. Moody." Professor Dumbledore patted the boy's hand reassuringly.

Alastor was puzzled. "How did you know I was here, Sir?"

"I overheard Mr. Riley informing your friends of your illness," the potions professor explained, the twinkle in his eyes dimming slightly. "May I inquire as to the nature of your illness?"

"Madam Arden called it acute bronchitis," Alastor told the professor, wondering why he was so concerned.

For his part, the professor nodded thoughtfully. "Not a pleasant experience, if I remember correctly, but, then again, illnesses are never pleasant experiences."

"No, they certainly aren't," Alastor agreed with a laugh, which quickly turned into a coughing fit that left him clutching his ribs. "Oh, ow."

Professor Dumbledore had risen from his seat during the boy's coughing fit and now gently squeezed a shoulder. "To prevent another coughing fit, I shall leave you now. Get well soon, my boy."

"Thank you for coming, Professor." Alastor smiled sincerely up at his professor.

As the professor moved to the door, a buzz of voices preceded the appearance of Alastor's friends. "Hello, gentlemen and lady."

"Hello, Professor, came to visit the patient, I imagine. Hasn't died yet, has he?" Stewart was the first to answer.

Rremly quickly inserted himself, "Stew! What a thing to say!"

"Rrem, he's just joking and you know it," Griffith sounded vastly amused.

Percy's deep voice was the next to be heard: "Now, now, we're here to visit a friend, remember?"

"Honestly! Do you two need a time-out?" Belladonna's dry voice followed on the heels of Percy's.

For their part, Felix and the twins chuckled and kept silent.

Stewart countered, "Oy! I'll have you know, I haven't had a time out since I was six."

"Yeah, because his Mum finally figured out that it didn't do any good," Griffith added, deadpan.

While the others roared with laughter, Rremly slipped over to Alastor's bed and quietly asked, "Feeling all right there, Al? I brought you something from lunch because you missed it."

"And breakfast," Alastor added, accepting the ham sandwich Rremly held out to him. "Thanks."

Rremly ducked his head and smiled the quiet smile that was such a comfort to all of them, blushing profusely. "Think nothing of it."

A nudge at his knee caused him to look past Rremly to see Belladonna standing by the bed expectantly. A little surprised, he moved his leg and she plopped down on the bed.

"You all right there, Al? You haven't lost a lung or anything, have you?"

"No, Bella, I haven't seen any lungs come out while I was coughing," Alastor assured her as the others made their way over to the bed and gathered around it.

Griffith climbed over the footboard and sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. Stewart bounced over to the bed with Percy, Felix, the twins, and even Milo, bringing up the rear.

"Merlin, Al! Don't you know that there's a lady present?"

"Stew, I'm no _lady_, so put a cork in it," Belladonna shot back at him as he perched on the other side of the bed from her.

Alastor looked at the faces gazing down at him, a little humbled by what he saw in them. Rremly and Milo, standing near the head of the bed, looked concerned and ready to help at the first sign that Alastor needed any. Belladonna, perched by Alastor's right knee, still wore the smirk, but he could tell that she would have kicked arse if the bronchitis had been tangible. Griffith, lounging at the foot of the bed, had a half-grin on his face, but Alastor could see the concern in his blue-gray eyes. Percy, stood at the corner of the bed beside Milo, both looking similarly concerned and sympathetic. Felix and the twins, stood beside Percy, three sets of vivid blue eyes gazing at him with equal consideration and solicitude. Stewart, perched by Alastor's left knee, wore a bright, daffy grin and his eyes were bright with mirth. A touch on Alastor's knee told him that Stewart was trying to comfort Alastor the best way he knew how. He'd expected his friends to visit him, but not en masse like this. It was at the same time overwhelming, yet warmed his lonely heart.

A fifth-year boy with fine, short, red hair and green-gold eyes suddenly appeared at the bedside between Rremly and Belladonna, holding a goblet in one hand with amber round-rimmed glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

"Hello, Alastor, I trust you're feeling a little better?"

"Er, yes, I am, though I wouldn't mind if the coughing stopped, too," Alastor replied, wondering who this boy was, taking notice of the prefect badge on his Ravenclaw robes.

The fifth year prefect barely nodded, his eyes full of understanding. "Yes, I can quite imagine, which is why I'm here." He leaned forward slightly, offering the goblet he held to Alastor. "I was told by Madam Arden to bring you this cider. It'll help soothe your throat." His eyes flickered to the goblet, conveying that Alastor should take it, which the younger boy did. "I was also told to kindly ask your friends to leave," here he paused and glanced at the group before moving on, "but I can see that the comfort they provide will greatly benefit you. I'll speak with Madam Arden about their staying, but mind you, get some rest."

"Thank you, er, what's your name?" Alastor asked, cradling the goblet between his hands for moment, fully intending to drink.

He offered his hand, "Stephen Carrick, pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Hello, Stephen." Alastor smiled a little.

Stephen returned his smile with tiny half-smile of his own. He paused and glanced around at the others. "Alas, I must get back to my studies. Good day to you, Alastor." He started to go, but turned back for a moment, "Remember, you must rest."

Alastor and the others watched him walk to Madam Arden's office.

Rremly was the first to break the silence. "Carrick… Holden knows him. I wonder that I didn't recognize him."

Stewart pursed his lips, thinking for a moment as Alastor began drinking the cider. "Oh, yeah, I've seen him in the library. Always has a stack of books surrounding him." He gestured to indicate what he meant. "Takes up nearly the whole table. Always did wonder about that."

"I've heard that Stephen takes on extra projects," Milo commented quietly. "He likes to study Muggle subjects."

Felix calmly remarked, "Yes, he's something of a naturalist."

"I've seen him out in the courtyard, looking at all the different plants and inspecting insects," Belladonna remarked, pursing her lips, her dark green eyes slightly narrowed in thought.

When Alastor finished the goblet, Rremly took it out of Alastor's hands and set it on the small table nearby. "It's time we let Alastor rest."

"Thanks, Rrem." Alastor smiled up at the other boy as Griffith clambered back over the footboard and landed lightly on his feet.

Rremly ducked his head, his cheeks turning red again. "You needn't thank me. Just get well."

"All right, you rest, and no partying while we're gone," Stewart told Alastor, nudging Alastor's shoulder in a playful way.

Alastor laughed at that, only to have it turn into another coughing fit.

"Bloody hell, Stew! Don't make him laugh!"

"Oy, I hadn't expected you to lose a lung over that!" Stewart exclaimed, glaring at Belladonna with a mock-indignant expression, as she'd been the one to chastise him.

Alastor managed to catch his breath and grinned up at Stewart. "I will, if you stay much longer, prat."

"Prat and demmed proud of it!" Stewart grinned and saluted in a jaunty manner.

Percy leaned in over Stewart's shoulder. "I'll see you later, Al. Come on, Stew."

"Yes, Mum." Stewart laughed and followed Percy.

"Hope to see you feeling better tomorrow," Alfons winked, Maximilian and Felix echoing the sentiment.

Rremly was the last to leave after Milo said his goodbye, closing the door behind him after a last glance at Alastor. Sighing contentedly, he let himself relax into the pillows, wondering why he felt so much better. Moments later, he was fast asleep, a slight smile curving his lips.


	14. Got Milk?

**14. Got Milk?**

Late that night, Alastor was awakened from a sound sleep by the door to the Hospital Wing carefully (and creakily) being opened. Propping himself up on his elbows, he spotted two figures slipping inside, the latter pushing the door closed behind him. "Who are you? Who's there?"

"It's me, Rremly," his friend whispered, moving closer slowly just ahead of Holden, presumably. "Holden and Milo are here, too."

"My brother was most insistent on bringing you some éclairs and milk from the kitchens since you've not been able to go to dinner." Holden whispered in the next moment, which was then followed by a soft muffled "Oof!" and a gasp.

"That's my foot, Holden!" Rremly whispered loudly.

"I am sorry there, but you need to walk a little faster." Came the rushed reply.

"I would, but it's hard carrying the milk and éclairs. I'd rather not make a mess, thank you." Rremly whispered back.

In the bed, Alastor was almost dying, trying to laugh and cough without making too much noise. "Oh, you two are almost as bad as Stew and Griff sometimes. Thanks for coming and for bringing the treats."

A door opened that next second, stopping all noise from any of the three. "What's about? Alastor, are you all right?" Stephen's voice sounded from Madam Arden's office. Footsteps could be heard as he presumably came toward Alastor's bedside.

Alastor blinked, startled by the appearance of the older boy. "Er, hello, Stephen. What were you doing in Madam Arden's office at this time of night?"

Stephen stepped up beside him. "I was looking over some of her books. She's entrusted me with the use of her office whenever I have a wish to study or merely to have a bit of light reading before bed." Stephen explained in his quiet voice that held vague musical strains of an Irish brogue. "Might I ask what you three are doing here?" Stephen inquired of Rremly, Holden, and Milo.

"I know it's late, really, but I wanted to bring Alastor these éclairs and milk since he hasn't been able to enjoy dinner in the hall with the others." Rremly whispered, his voice holding little tinges of tentativeness and shyness.

There was a quiet pause in which Alastor could only guess that Rremly held that little lost boy look in his eyes. "I see," Stephen breathed before going on in a louder voice so as to be heard by Rremly, his brother, and Milo. "I'll leave you to your gathering, but mind that you keep quiet, as I doubt this would be allowed by Madam Arden."

"We promise not to make noise. You won't even realize we're here." Holden assured him, taking the plate and jug from Rremly and setting it on the bedside nightstand with a soft muffled clink.

Alastor had always been more of an observer than a participator, and now that the bronchitis was under control, he was better able to observe. It was very thoughtful of Rremly to bring the éclairs and milk and wasn't really surprised that Rremly had come. The presence of Milo and Holden was a surprise. A welcome one, to be sure, but a surprise nonetheless. As for Stephen, well, Alastor still wasn't quite sure what to think of the prefect. Being a Ravenclaw, it was really no surprise that Stephen should be studying, but at _this_ time of night? When most rational students were asleep in bed? No thank you. However, he _was_ letting Rremly stay and visit, so Alastor wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Thanks, Stephen, I really appreciate it." Alastor thought for a moment before adding. "Actually, would you like to join us? Unless, of course, you would rather go back to looking through Madam Arden's books?"

"Yes, please do join us. We've quite a lot of éclairs," Rremly chimed in, his voice an animated whisper.

There was a pause and Alastor guessed that Stephen had been taken by surprise with the gesture of kindness on their part. "I would love that above all things. Thank you for the invitation." The slight Irish lilt gave a musical quality to his voice. "Half a moment, I'll just put the office back to rights and bookmark the book I'd been reading," Stephen told them heading back to the office momentarily.

"Should we wait for him to get back before starting on the food?" Alastor asked the other three, feeling a little hungry, but not much for he was still ill enough that food didn't appeal to him the way it did when he was healthy.

There was the clink once more, which was followed by Holden's voice. "We'll wait," he said, setting down the four goblets. Milo set down the four plates on the nightstand where Holden began pouring the milk and dividing the share of éclairs for all of them.

Alastor chuckled, suppressing a small cough before he spoke, "You thought of everything, didn't you? Although," Alastor paused to count, "you only brought four goblets and four plates."

"We've five plates if you count the original platter-" Holden put forth before Rremly cut him off, his voice betraying sheepishness. "Though, we don't have enough goblets-"

The door closed and Stephen returned to Alastor's bedside, a book in his hands. "Not to worry, I've my empty goblet which had previously been home to my cider," he cut in smoothly, pulling up a chair beside the bed.

"Lucky, indeed. If you didn't have the one I'd have sent Rrem to fetch another from the kitchens-"

"Which I would've done gladly, Holden." Rremly chuckled, handing off a plate to Stephen before Holden poured some milk for the prefect.

Alastor smiled as he accepted the plate Rremly had handed him right after Stephen. It would be just like Rremly to be willing to do something like that.

"Which doesn't surprise me in the least." He looked down at the plate in his lap, wondering if he would be able to eat it all. A nudge on his hand made him look up to see that Milo was holding out a goblet of milk for Alastor.

"Oh, thanks, Milo."

"You're welcome," Milo said quietly, taking a sip of milk. "Though, if you find you can't finish the éclairs, don't worry. We understand that you might not find food all that appetizing just yet."

Alastor nodded, somewhat amused that Milo seemed to be channeling Rremly's intuition.

"By the way, Holden, I don't think Rrem's ever mentioned what year you are."

"I'm fourth year, like your friend Danny." Holden told him, taking a bite of his éclair, handing a napkin to Stephen who had been reaching beyond him for one.

Alastor's mouth twitched in a half-smile. "I'm a little surprised that you know him. Perhaps you know my brother, Aurelius? He's Slytherin, too."

Holden chuckled. "I know Danny from double Transfigurations. Paired up with me when we worked on switching spells. He's quite skilled at it, actually," Holden remarked, a thoughtful expression upon his face. "I do know your brother, if only from Quidditch."

Stephen's ears pricked at the mention of Quidditch. "You're on the team?"

"Keeper for Hufflepuff." Holden nodded his head, his eyes on Stephen. "You follow Quidditch?"

Stephen barely nodded. "I watch a time or two. I find the aerodynamics fascinating. The physics of the sport are intriguing."

Alastor was hard-pressed to keep from laughing. "The aerodynamics and physics? I admit I've never thought of those aspects of the sport as intriguing." He looked at Holden. "I'm not surprised that Danny would be willing to partner outside his own House." Silently, he added, _'And Aurelius would __never__ consider the possibility of associating with a Hufflepuff.'_

Stephen did not necessarily respond to Alastor's previous statement on the validity of such aspects of Quidditch being interesting or no. He merely maintained his gaze, attentive to what Alastor and Holden were speaking of.

Holden glanced at Rremly and then back at Alastor. "Yes, I admit, Danny's very kind. About Aurelius, I wouldn't know, as I've never been properly introduced," he said, apparently trying to be diplomatic towards Alastor's brother. Rremly caught Alastor's eye before he looked down at his hands. Milo found his glass of milk quite interesting then.

"Don't worry about it, Holden," Alastor tried to assure the other boy without revealing too much about his family's opinion of Hufflepuffs. "He prefers to keep to his own circle." To prevent himself from saying any more, he took a large bite of the éclair in his hand.

The older Hufflepuff didn't say anything, but his small smile, quite reminiscent of Rremly's, said it all. He took up Stephen's empty plate, as he was dabbing at his lips quite politely with his napkin, and setting it on the table beneath his own empty plate. Rremly too, finished his last éclair and drained the goblet of milk. Milo, too, savored the éclair, unaware that he'd made a little sound of appreciation, and when he did realize it, he promptly ducked his head and blushed.

"This was truly delicious. Thank you for inviting me." Stephen said, the barest hint of a tiny smile on his lips.

"No need to thank me, Stephen," Alastor told the oldest of the four of them. "I wasn't sure if the four of us could eat all the éclairs." He looked down at the half-full plate in his lap. "I'm not sure I can finish my share, though."

Holden grinned a wicked sort of grin. "I'll finish those then," he said, taking up the plate from Alastor.

"Holden!" Rremly scolded, frowning slightly.

Holden turned up an eyebrow at him. "Who'll eat them if I don't?"

Rremly chuckled, "Well I would have, if you'd asked."

"I wouldn't say no to a last one, either," put forth Stephen, a slight twinkle in his eyes, which was of course magnified by the mere fact that he was again wearing his glasses.

"I'll let you four fight it out," Alastor managed to insert. "I've had quite enough, thank you."

Holden laughed warmly and divided the last éclairs between himself, Stephen, Rremly, and Milo, wolfing down his with relish. "Mmm, quite delicious."

"I agree," Stephen murmured, dabbing at his face again with the napkin.

Rremly had no words, merely a warm smile. "Well, at least the éclairs weren't wasted," Alastor mused, noting the lack of remaining éclairs. "What about the milk? Is it all gone?"

Holden glanced behind him before turning back to Alastor with quite the sheepish expression on his face. "Er… yes…"

With a laugh, Rremly patted his brother on the shoulder. "Next time we'll keep the jug by me."

Stephen watched the exchange before coughing to get their attention. "Ahem," he paused, waiting for them to meet his gaze before going on. "Allow me to rectify the problem," he declared before conjuring a glass for Alastor.

"I didn't ask because I wanted one, Stephen, although I thank you for the thought," Alastor told the prefect. "I was asking out of curiosity, that's all."

"In that case I'll take that too, if you don't mind Stephen," Holden announced, taking up the glass of milk and downing it back in one gulp.

Rremly laughed, too exasperated with his brother. Milo chuckled, shaking his head a little. Stephen, however, was merely quietly bemused. "My, you _do_ have quite the appetite," Stephen mused.

Holden grinned, his eyes sheepish. "Runs in the family."

"Does it, Rrem?" Alastor asked, looking at the other boy.

"It does, but unlike my brother and my father, I know when to stop." Rremly smiled widely.

This set Alastor to laughing, which, in turn triggered a coughing fit. "Drat! I hate this!"

Stephen was instantly up out of his seat, with a conjured goblet of cider for the boy. "Do drink this, it'll settle the coughing. I'll see about getting one of Madam Arden's potions," He told Alastor before turning to the other two. "I must also say that it's quite late, and we really should leave Alastor to rest."

Holden, Milo, and Rremly nodded, the latter fluffing Alastor's pillow and the former two tucking the blankets around him just as Stephen returned with the promised potion, holding it out to Alastor. "Thanks, Stephen." Alastor took the potion and drank it in one go before returning the goblet to Stephen and beginning to work on the cider.

Stephen didn't say anything, but merely looked upon Alastor with concern before glancing at the other three, who nodded.

"As Stephen said, it's time we left, but we'll come and bring you breakfast, not to worry," Rremly informed him, that kind smile appearing on his lips.

Holden nodded in agreement. "Rest well, Alastor," said the older Hufflepuff.

Milo gave his shoulder a pat, "Pleasant dreams."

They each hugged Alastor and went on their way. Alastor was a little surprised by the hugs, but returned them nevertheless. He looked at his remaining visitor and offered the now-empty goblet he held.

"Thank you again, Stephen."

"You're welcome, Alastor," Stephen told him, "think nothing of it," as he picked up his book. "I'll be letting Madam Arden know that they'll be here to bring you breakfast. Sleep well, Alastor. I hope to have the pleasure of checking up on you tomorrow." The prefect awarded him a quiet smile.

Alastor nodded, settling back into his pillows. "I wouldn't mind seeing you tomorrow, Stephen. Madam Arden is nice, don't misunderstand me, but it's not the same as having a friend."

Stephen's eyes flickered with surprise for a moment, before that look of calm reserve settled one again in his green eyes. "Indeed, I agree. I'll see you tomorrow then, good night, Alastor."

"Good night, Stephen," Alastor replied, watching the other boy leave the Hospital Wing. Sighing contentedly again, he drifted off to sleep.


	15. Sage Wisdom From A Hufflepuff

**15. Sage Wisdom From A Hufflepuff**

Alastor was released from the Hospital Wing about a week later with instructions from Madam Arden to take it easy for the next week or so. His friends visited en masse twice in the week, but each visited every day. Holden always had a treat of some sort to give Alastor. Alfons and Maximilian always brought Alastor the day's homework and were more than willing to help Alastor with the parts he didn't understand. Both they and Felix would quiz Alastor on his work. Griffith always had something amusing to tell Alastor, either a joke or a story, but he was always willing to sit and listen.

Belladonna would sit on the bed and tell Alastor about her day, sometimes reading to him from her book _Hexes and Charms for Defense and Mischief_. It was as thick as three volumes and in pristine condition since she took such good care of it. This book, she had told him, she had been working at reading all the way through. She was always giving Alastor updates on her progress and her successes with the new hexes she learned. Percy and Milo would sit and read to Alastor from whatever play or novel they happened to be reading. Rremly always made sure to bring food and was something of a gazette, informing Alastor about what the others were up to.

Daniel would teach Alastor how to play his harmonica, or play his guitar, or tell him about life at the ranch house in Arizona where he lived with his parents his sister, Devonny, and his horse, Sasparilla- Rilla for short. Aurelius would sit and listen to Alastor and give him any news from their parents. Stephen would sit with Alastor as well, with his ever-present book or set of books in his arms. Stephen would either read him a passage from his book on the wildlife of Asia or he would sit and engage Alastor in conversation that interested the younger boy. He was also always inquiring as to how Alastor was feeling, both as a friend and as a healer in training, so to speak. Stewart would serenade Alastor, either with his voice or his violin…

"I do so loathe making decisions… which do you prefer, Al, classical piece or Irish reel?" Stewart asked him as he tightened the strings and played a few practice notes.

Alastor shrugged. "Either would sound fine to me, you know that, Stew."

The other boy grinned. "Irish reel then," Stewart concluded and began to play a lively reel, tapping his feet in time to the music. He played all the way through, tapping his foot and smiling that daffy smile at Alastor, almost as if he were trying to get Alastor to smile or laugh as well. When the reel was finished the sound of clapping was heard, which surprised both boys, for Stewart still had the violin in his hands and Alastor wasn't clapping just yet.

"I do apologize for interrupting; however, I simply had to congratulate you on such fine playing. I did notice you were playing an Irish reel. I take it you are Irish?" Stephen asked, coming into the room with not one, but five books in his arms.

Slightly surprised, Stewart gazed back at him. "My father's Irish," Stewart responded.

Stephen nodded, wearing his quiet smile as he moved towards Alastor's bedside. "I see. I hadn't known you play the violin. I myself play, though I prefer making my music upon the cello."

"My family is quite musical. The cello is what my sister prefers to play when she isn't nicking my violin or tapping out notes on our mother's piano. We also play the clarinet, oboe, flute, and tin whistle." Stewart laughed, setting his instrument back in its case.

Stephen's eyes barely widened in appreciation. "My, why you are quite the musical family. I've only learned the violin, cello, and piano, I admit."

"Well," Alastor's voice chimed in, "I play the harmonica… sort of."

Both Stephen and Stewart turned their heads and glanced at him. "Yes, we've heard you play, mate." Stewart grinned, observing Stephen's response as well.

"Ah, the harmonica. I have not had the pleasure of hearing its music. Perhaps you wouldn't mind playing for us sometime?"

"Perhaps," was Alastor's reply. _'More like never… I can't quite get the feel for this instrument.'_

A laugh made Alastor turn his gaze from Stephen to Stewart. "What?"

"Oh nothing… I could just tell from the look on your face, you're not terribly keen on performing for us… and for good reason, too," Stewart grinned wickedly. "Though, I say this with the utmost love and respect, mate."

Stephen's lips twitched amusedly. "I wouldn't for the world press you into something don't wish to do. Don't worry, Alastor."

"Is it that obvious?" Alastor asked, a little dryly, despite his relief that they wouldn't push the issue.

Stewart looked at him incredulously before bursting out in laughter once more. "Obvious? Egad man, you're like one of those huge print novels."

This response immediately merited a glance from Stephen. "I wouldn't have put it _quite_ like that…" he paused, his eyes barely betraying a sheepish expression. "I'm sorry, but I don't have your name. We rather missed the introductions."

"Stewart Pomfrey," he extended his hand with a grin.

Stephen took his hand. "Stephen Carrick-"

"I know your name; I do have my spies you know." Stewart winked, meriting a smile from Alastor. _That's Stew for you…_

Glancing at Stewart bemusedly, almost as if he couldn't quite figure out what to make of him, Stephen smiled. "Spies? Indeed," he shook his head. "Well met, Stewart. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, but I find I must get on with my practice. A good day to you both, and do remember to get rest, Alastor."

"Pleasure to meet you too." Stewart saluted.

Alastor chuckled slightly. "I can hardly forget to rest, Stephen, when I'm reminded about it every time my friends visit."

Stephen didn't respond, but the small chuckle and backward glance said it all as Stephen left them to enter Madam Arden's office.

* * *

Alastor recovered fully from his bought with bronchitis and resumed attending classes without mishap. The rest of February and March slipped away without much incident and Alastor found himself faced with a week at home. His parents had insisted that he come home for the spring holidays instead of _'going off with those friends of yours, particularly the Gryffindors and Hufflepuff.'_ Having no choice, Alastor spent the train ride to King's Cross brooding, though the others did their best to draw him out.

As they stepped onto the platform, Rremly whispered a reminder to Alastor, "If things get rough for you, use the mirror."

"Right, thanks, Rrem." Alastor offered his friend a faint smile before making his way over to where his mother and Aurelius were waiting for him. Calla looked impatient, but his brother's face was carefully devoid of expression. His mother gestured imperiously for Alastor to follow and turned to leave the station. Sighing, Alastor followed her, towing only his trunk this time. Aurelius had taken his own trunk before Alastor could get to it, sparing him a tiny smile.

* * *

Several days later, Alastor dug through his trunk until he found what he was looking for. Lounging back on the bed, he spoke in a clear voice, "Rremly Redgrave."

A moment or two later Rremly's face appeared in the haze of the mirror, a bright smile upon his face as per usual. "Al! Hello there. How are things? You're all right, aren't you?" Rremly asked, his smile sweeping into his trademark concerned look.

"One question at a time, Rrem. Things are all right, I suppose. Yes, I'm all right, thank you for asking," Alastor replied, very pleased to be speaking with Rremly who, with his quiet intuitive sensitivity, always seemed to be most considerate of what others might be feeling or going through.

Rremly looked a bit sheepish for having peppered him with questions so soon after the greetings. "Sorry there. I've just been thinking about you ever since we left. Worried a little, I admit. Oh, and Holden says _'hello,'_ as do Mum and Dad," Rremly relayed, losing the sheepish expression as it gave way to quiet ease.

"Thanks, Rrem. Tell them I say _'hello'_ as well," Alastor replied, smiling slightly, despite his confusion. "I actually had a reason for contacting you, aside from chatting."

The smiling eyes turned curious then, Rremly's face appearing to lean in closer to the mirror's surface. "What reason would that be?" Rremly gave voice to his curiosity.

"I wasn't real happy about coming home for the holidays and I'm sure you can imagine why," Alastor explained, his expression darkening a little. "Yet, today, Aurelius offered to take me on a picnic, just the two of us."

Alastor could tell that Rremly was a bit surprised with what he'd said. His eyes held concern and worry mingled with a bit of hope. "He did? That was really nice of him," Rremly remarked, his eyes still thoughtful.

"Yes, it was," Alastor agreed, nodding slightly. "And that's what surprises me."

Rremly bit down on his lip, his expression just barely pensive. "Perhaps he's feeling guilty for all the time he didn't exactly share with you?"

"Maybe," Alastor answered quietly, thinking for a moment. Coming to a decision, he looked straight at his friend's reflection. "I have to tell this to someone and you're the best one to tell. You have to promise not to tell anyone else, though."

Curious surprise crossed over Rremly's sweet face. "You have my word. I promise not to tell anyone."

"Thank you, Rrem." Alastor took a deep breath. "As you've already gathered, I don't have the best of lives here at home. To tell the truth, it doesn't really feel like home anymore, not since I've met you and the others." He passed his hand over his face. "To be honest, my friends, you included, have been a better family than my own." He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

It seemed that Rremly knew of some of what Alastor had spoken about, but he seemed quite surprised with the last statement, and almost looked ready to ask a question, but decided better of it. "I suppose if Stew were here, he'd tell you we're more than glad to have you in our rather eccentric family." He smiled, and met Alastor's eyes through the mirror's glass. "I, however, say that I'm here for you always, just so you know. Your friend and brother in spirit..."

"Thanks, Rrem." Alastor chuckled softly. "I suppose what's truly surprising about my picnic with Aurelius earlier today was that it was actually pleasant. Although I still wonder what exactly possessed him to suggest such a thing. It's not like he's done it before."

"No, indeed he hasn't." Rremly nodded in agreement, playing the part of attentive listener to perfection.

Alastor sighed softly. "Thanks for listening, Rrem. I needed to talk to someone and the only person I could think of was _you_. I can't go to my own parents about it." Silently, he added, _'Not that they'd care anyway.'_

As he'd expected, Rremly ducked his head as per usual when thanked. "Really, think nothing of it. I'm glad I can help, even if only by listening."

"And it's very much appreciated, Rrem, I can assure you of that," Alastor told the other boy. "How're your holidays going? Anything exciting happen yet?"

There was a pause for a moment. "Ah nothing really, just enjoying my time with my family and all."

"Wish I could say the same," Alastor muttered, not realizing he'd said it out loud.

"I know," Rremly murmured quietly, his eyes pained for Alastor.

The other boy's comment startled Alastor into realizing he'd made his previous comment out loud and he hastily added, "I'm sorry, Rrem, I don't mean to ramble on about my problems. It must get rather dull for you to listen to them."

"Actually no, you'll find it isn't boring for me. Nothing concerning my friends is boring," Rremly replied without missing a beat, his eyes serious and voice firm. "But, I really think you should give the others a chance. They can sense more than you give them credit for, and Bella, at least, would completely understand where you're coming from."

Alastor nodded and happened to glance over at the clock on his nightstand. Groaning, he looked at his friend. "I'm sorry to cut this short, Rrem, but I should be getting to bed." Truth was he was a little relieved. The idea of telling the others—of having them know and look at him with pity or worry in their eyes—was a bit more than he could stand at present.

"That's quite all right, Al. I'll talk with you soon," came Rremly's response, a smile lighting up his face. "Good evening."

Alastor smiled back. "Good evening to you, too, Rrem. Say _'hi'_ to Holden and your parents for me."

Laughing, Rremly saluted a la Stewart. "Why, of course I will."

"Good." Alastor chuckled and reluctantly terminated the connection. He sighed and stared at the mirror in his hand. "Well, at least there's someone out there who'll listen to me." He set the mirror on his nightstand and began to prepare for bed.


	16. Proper Socialization at Lockley Castle

**16. Proper Socialization at Lockley Castle**

Not much happened during the last term of the school year. Aurelius continued to pay more attention to Alastor, which the younger boy definitely enjoyed. He continued to study with his friends on a regular basis and would sometimes go to Professor Dumbledore if he was having trouble in Potions, which didn't happen very often. The professor was more than happy to help Alastor and never failed to ask after his health and how he was doing in his other classes.

Almost before they knew it, the school year had ended. Alastor slowly packed his trunk while the boys around him talked quietly, discussing plans for the summer. With a glance to the bed beside his, he saw the Albrecht twins, Alfons and Maximilian, packing up and speaking in rapid German, though he caught the words _'Copenhagen,'_ _'Stockholm,' _and _'Oslo'_.

They caught sight of him staring and spared him a smile.

"Al, would you like anything in particular from Scandinavia?" Maximilian asked, locking his trunk.

"Um… just surprise me," said Alastor, having no real idea of what to ask for.

Alfons laughed. "Oh, we'll surprise you, don't worry about that," he winked.

Just as he'd finished, the other boys—Cassius Malfoy and Angelus Black, two of his cousins—fell silent. Wondering what was going on, Alastor looked up to see his brother standing in the doorway to the dormitory.

"Would you please excuse us? I'd like a word with my brother."

That cool request from Aurelius sent Cassius and Angelus away in a minute, though Alfons and Maximilian—after silently checking with Alastor if this was okay with him—took their sweet time in leaving, clearly letting him know they weren't at all pleased about being ordered about.

Alastor remained, knowing that Aurelius wanted to speak with him. When they were alone, Alastor spoke. "Hello, Aurelius."

"Hello, Alastor," Aurelius returned his brother's greeting. "Packing up I see." The younger watched the elder cross to the end of his bed to sit down on it. After a short silence, Aurelius asked, "You're staying with friends again, correct?"

Alastor nodded, wondering what this was about. "Yes, I am. With the Lockleys."

"I see. I only wished to know so I can ensure that Mother and Father aren't privy to that." Aurelius nodded, giving his brother a benevolent sort of look. Aurelius rose and patted Alastor's shoulder before leaving the dormitory.

Puzzled, Alastor stood and left the dormitory as well. As he came down the stairs Daniel hailed him.

"Al!"

"Hey, Danny," Alastor greeted the older boy. "I wanted to ask you something."

The taller boy steered Alastor over to a quiet corner of the common room so they wouldn't be overheard. "Shoot, I'm all ears, partner."

"I've heard that there'll be three spots open on the Quidditch team next year," Alastor started, trying to keep the eagerness from his voice.

Daniel nodded with a grin. "Darn right, we need Beaters and a Chaser. Why d'ya ask? Did you want to try out?"

Alastor grinned sheepishly. "Well, yeah."

"That's great, Al." Daniel patted Alastor on the back. "Practice over the summer, decide which is a better fit for you, and show me what you got when term starts."

Alastor smiled broadly. "Of course, I'll train very hard."

"Just do your best. Don't want you injuring yourself before tryouts." Daniel chuckled and patted Alastor's shoulder before letting the other boy head off in search of his friends.

* * *

"So, is anyone going to try out for Quidditch next term?" Griffith asked as they rode the train back to King's Cross.

Alastor laughed. "Trust you to think of Quidditch, Griff."

"Well?" Griffith ignored Alastor for the moment as he looked around at the others.

"I-" "I'd-" Stewart and Belladonna had started to speak at the first time. Stewart gestured to Belladonna, "Ladies, first."

Belladonna rolled her eyes before stating, "I'd like to try for Beater."

Stewart's face lit up. "A lady after my own heart! Why, that's the posish I'll be trying for!"

"I'm going in for Chaser," Percy chimed in as Belladonna merely grabbed the hood of Stewart's cloak, pulling it over his face.

"How about you, Al?" Griffith asked once the laughter had died down.

He smiled, feeling shy for some reason. "Danny said they'll be looking for a Chaser and two Beaters, though I think I'd try for Chaser." He looked at the boy beside him.

"Rrem?"

"Ah… no, I won't be trying out," Rremly answered quietly, shaking his head and smiling his trademark smile.

Alastor frowned at this news, as did Belladonna. Percy looked concerned. Griffith just gaped at the other boy, but Stewart was the one who voiced the question all of them had on their minds.

"Egad! Why not? You were planning on it before! You were going for Seeker..."

"Yes, Stew, I was planning on it, but plans have a way of changing," Rremly said softly as Percy nudged his friend with his elbow and Belladonna rolled her eyes. Stewart glanced at him long, but must have been worked on by those pleading eyes of Rremly's, for he smiled, nodded, and fell silent.

For his part, Alastor wondered if the change in plans had anything to do with whatever had taken Rremly from the school for three days at a time twice in the term. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he looked at Griffith.

"Griff, what are you going for?"

"What makes you think I'm going to?" Griffith asked, skepticism dripping from his words.

Stewart nudged Griffith with his elbow, "Because you're the Quidditch nutter. So, which will it be?"

"Chaser," Griffith admitted, looking decidedly sheepish.

Stewart grinned triumphantly. "Ha! Knew it!"

The witch with the food cart arrived while everyone was laughing and they were soon too busy eating the snacks they'd bought to do much talking.

* * *

Alastor had visited _Lockley Castle_ while he was spending the holidays with the Pomfreys, but now he would be spending most of the following month there and took time to actually _look_. There were three floors. The ground floor was home to the parlor, the main hall—which was a glorified sitting room with a grand piano, harpsichord, two large luxurious sofas, several settees, a great grandfather clock, game table, and a magnificent fireplace—the dining hall, the enormous kitchen, a large library, Mr. and Mrs. Lockley's study, a gallery, and of course a grand ballroom. Everything in the castle was gold and bronze—the fabrics quite dated, the prevailing color schemes were maroon and honey. The castle was warm, sumptuous, and beautiful.

The second floor consisted of the bedrooms: master bedroom and several unused bedrooms which were mainly used by friends or the extended family whenever they came to stay. As for the third floor, it was given over completely to the children. Percy, Josselyn, and Julian each had their own rooms, all of which had their own lavatory. There were three other bedrooms—one used by Viatrix and Lucilla while the other was Juno's—and a guest room, and these, too, had their own lavatories. This floor also housed Josselyn's sewing room and a smaller common room for everyone.

As Alastor settled into the bedroom that would be his for the duration of his stay, he couldn't help feeling a little jealous of his friends. Being the last to climb off the train, he'd seen how warmly their families had greeted them. It had been quite obvious that the others were loved. Alastor wasn't even sure if his own parents _liked_ him in the smallest measurement, let alone _loved_ him.

The moment he'd stepped off the train, however, Poppy, and Rolanda had virtually smothered him with hugs, which he'd gladly returned. All the adults greeted him warmly as if he were one of their own. When he'd fell in with Percy's family, Percy's siblings and cousins chatted easily with him as if they'd always been friends. Juno, for example, simply loved to rustle Alastor's hair, eyes twinkling playfully.

He'd watched Belladonna join the Pomfrey family, who she was staying with this time around. The Albrecht twins followed along with Felix to greet his grandfather, Fritz, whom they all called _'Opa'_ (whom they usually stayed with over the holidays before returning home to see their parents in Berlin). Looking around a last time, he saw Griffith, Rremly, and Milo joining their families, and he just couldn't help the sigh.

Alastor suddenly jumped when his brother touched his shoulder. Calla wished to speak with him, so Alastor followed his brother to where she waited. It turned out that she was reiterating the fact that he needed to be on his best behavior and remember his manners. When she'd finished lecturing him about the importance of maintaining the family dignity, he was free to leave with the Pomfreys.

It was the ruse he and his brother had come up with—which Stewart agreed to, but wasn't so sure about. He wanted to let his parents know so that they wouldn't be surprised if Alastor's mother or father showed up to fetch him. Alastor, who highly doubted if the Pomfreys would go along with such a plan, was adamantly against it. Eventually Stewart agreed when Alastor made him aware of the fact that Aurelius would give them ample warning concerning when his parents would come.

Alastor walked away just some feet, and when he looked back to see that Calla was now occupied and not looking his way, he quickly darted after the Lockleys.

* * *

"Al?" A soft knock upon the open door accompanied the quiet question and Alastor, coming back to the present, turned to see who his visitor was.

He smiled when he saw Percy in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Dinner will be ready soon," Percy told him. "Did you need help settling in?"

Alastor shook his head. "No, thanks. Will it just be the family tonight?"

"Depends," He smiled. "Did you mean just the immediate family or extended as well?"

Alastor couldn't help grinning. "Immediate."

"Then you're in luck. It'll just be us this time- but you should know we all dine together quite a lot. Here and at my cousins' homes, too." Percy laughed. "Oh, and there's the usual birthday bash for Juno and I. That'll be near the end of the month, though, so don't worry."

Alastor was a bit amazed by all this. He couldn't ever imagine having such a large family and getting along with them so well that he'd want to see them all so often. As for the party, he tried not to get anxious over it—consoling himself with the fact that he knew for certain that he had something _appropriate_ to wear. He was exceedingly glad that he took care to keep the two ensembles Percy and Josselyn had given him in perfect condition.

Suddenly he felt Percy wrap an arm around his shoulders. "Don't lose your head, there," said Percy. "You'll be fine."

"I hope so…"

"C'mon, let's go have a game of cards," Percy smiled.

Alastor couldn't help it. "You're on." He smiled, too.


	17. Lazy Hazy Days of Summer

**17. Lazy Hazy Days of Summer**

Alastor enjoyed his month at _Lockley Castle_. The days tended to be quite active. As Percy had indicated, his cousins came to stay a week here and a week there. They had everyone over for dinner every Monday evening. Wednesday evenings were spent dining at _Lockhart Lodge_, and Friday evenings at _Lockwood Cottage_. Just as Percy's cousins came to stay every now and again, Percy, his brothers, and Alastor also stayed a week or two at _Lockhart Lodge_ and _Lockwood Cottage_. Alastor found he rather liked staying at _Lockwood Cottage_ as the village where it was located, Salty Cove, bordered Brighton. It was his first time seeing the ocean, and he really couldn't get enough. Naturally he was exceedingly grateful that they all didn't mind taking him about, stopping wherever he wished.

Alastor was also amused to find that they had some traditions they'd made up where Brighton was concerned. For example, there was the carousel on Brighton Pier which whenever they passed by they all had to hop on and go for at least seven rounds before continuing on. He'd have been fine just watching the little ritual, but Percy had other plans. When the others had made their running jump onto it, Percy quite pulled Alastor with him. Once he'd gotten over the initial surprise, he had to laugh. It _was_ rather entertaining.

They also loved to have their fortunes told by Myfanwy, the red-haired middle aged fortune teller on the pier. According to the girls, Myfanwy was a Muggle with a highly developed third-eye and sense of intuition and discernment. They loved getting their fortunes read by her because she was down-to-earth and very honest. He wasn't too sure about it. He was wary and a little afraid of the idea of a stranger telling him what would happen to him. Alastor felt powerless as it was, and didn't relish the idea of being told something awful without a means to prevent it. Alastor chose to hang back with Percy while the girls took their turns.

"Did you ever do it?" Alastor asked Percy, very much curious.

"Yeah, just once though."

"Anything that actually happened?"

"Yeah, last year she told me I'd make a new friend- someone special with very similar interests," Percy smiled brightly. "She said I'd have to be very patient and understanding toward this person and that the friendship would be strong and completely worth the effort."

Alastor quirked an eyebrow, a bit puzzled, "A new friend? Who?"

"Oh… just a certain Hufflepuff who loves to write plays and who is prone to the most amazing amount of shyness."

"Wait… _Milo_?"

"Yeah."

"You're _serious_?"

"Yeah… why wouldn't I be?"

"Well… I mean, he's so _quiet_."

"And you aren't?"

"All right… but he's so completely shy. How do you manage to get him talking?"

"Just show him that you really _want_ to get to know him. When he sees he can trust you and that you're all right, he'll come around. Truth is once he feels comfortable with you he tends to be a bit more talkative, and _sometimes_ he can ramble a bit and say quite a lot in a single breath," Percy's smile was a bit nostalgic, as if remembering one of these occasions. "It's positively endearing."

Alastor looked at Percy with a bit of surprise and amusement. "I suppose I'll just have to take your word for it.

"You don't _have_ to," laughed, Percy. "You could find out for yourself."

"Maybe I will."

The next moment they were joined by the girls.

Viatrix looked around. "Oy, where are Joss and Jules?"

"_Merryweather's_," said Percy, indicating the sweet shop far behind them.

"Oh, Al, Myfanwy wanted to see you," Viatrix winked as she went off to fetch Percy's brothers.

Alastor frowned, "Why would she want to see me?"

"You obviously intrigued her," Lucilla smiled. "It's quite an honour you know. She's never asked to see anyone.

"Well, except Bella, really," corrected Juno.

Percy gave him a nudge. "Go on. It's bad form to say no."

"All right, I'll go," said Alastor, swallowing.

_I don't like this. Why did she ask to see me?_ Alastor tried to keep his nervousness from being apparent as he made his way over to Myfanwy's stall.

* * *

_There is someone near you who has the power to change things for you. Be warned, this will come with a sacrifice. Someone will be deeply hurt and something will be lost, but from this darkness you will be freed. What was lost can be found in your heart and mind for as long as you cherish it. You will find your strength in your capacity to love and to be loved. You will never be alone as long as you keep to your strength. _

_You must also face your fears. Allow the bat to guide you. The bat brings up our most hidden fears; those that lurk in the dark corners of our mind and spirit. He is telling you that it is time to bring these fears to the light. Nothing is greater torture than hiding such fears for our very refusal to acknowledge and deal with them only magnifies them, gives them even more power over us. _

_If you follow the teachings of bat, it may seem that things get only worse. They may for a time until you bring each of your fears into the full light of Spirit, tear them apart thoroughly, examine each element of that fear with total honesty, and let it go — out of your mind — out of your heart — out of your spirit. It's time for serious self-examination and self-evaluation._

_Always remember the positive power of bat. It is the symbol of the shaman death. This is not actual, physical death, but the death of old fears, old ways that no longer serve you, old belief systems that you have grown beyond, old prisons that have held your very soul captive. Once you pass through the darkness into the light you can fly. You are transformed. You are re-born. You are free._

None of this did anything for Alastor's unease about fortunes… or his precarious position in life.

* * *

The next day Percy and Alastor went to the wizarding side of Brighton. They crossed through _Same As It Ever Was_, an antique Victorian ice cream parlour (which only wizard folk could see), and found themselves in _Neptune's Alley_ where they made their way first to _Fiona's Fantastic Fabrics_.

"Getting some things for Joss?" Alastor asked, watching Percy go to and fro selecting the various fabrics that he needed.

"No," Percy chuckled. "Just some things for a project."

Whatever his project was, he wasn't sharing it with Alastor. Not that Alastor minded. He knew Percy well enough to know that he'd share it when the project was completed.

When Percy made his purchases, they left the store and went down to _Once Upon A Book._ Once inside, Percy immediately went over to look at some books about fashion history while Alastor poked about the Quidditch section. After several minutes of perusing _A Wandering History: The Wigtown Wanderer's Story_ by Amelia Winge, the book was swiftly plucked from his hands. Alastor spun about to see Percy placing the book atop the one he held, sparing a cheeky smile as he went over to pay for them.

"Percy, you don't need to," said Alastor trying to get the book back.

Percy was too quick for him. "You know, we _could_ go over the usual argument, but why don't we skip over that this time around?"

"Fine, all right," Alastor grudgingly agreed, but the effect was ruined by the little smile that broke free.

"Oh, hello Percy, Alastor," Mr. Wilkes voice drew their attention forward. "This is a pleasant surprise. Good morning." He said looking quite distinguished with his short grey frosted light brown hair and deep grey eyes. Even the antique silver star-shaped glasses didn't take away from his decidedly mature presence.

Percy seemed quite stunned for a moment, but rallied easily, sparing that winning smile of his. "Good morning, Mr. Wilkes."

"Yes, good morning," was all Alastor could manage.

"I thought your shop was in _Luminatus Alley_?" Percy wondered.

Mr. Wilkes chuckled briefly, "It is. This is a second branch. We tend to vacation here every summer. It seemed appropriate to have a second branch here."

Alastor could tell by Percy's smile that he was particularly _intrigued_ by this news.

"You've a summer home near here, then?"

"Yes, just over in Salty Cove."

Both he and Percy exchanged glances. It was too much of a coincidence.

"Does that mean Milo's here?" Percy asked hopefully.

Alastor managed to stifle a snort.

"Yes, actually," and here Mr. Wilkes reached down to pull open a cabinet door. "Milo, some friends of yours are here."

Frowning, Alastor turned to Percy who raised an eyebrow, simply shrugging. A moment later Milo appeared behind the counter, holding a _large_ volume close to his chest, looking thoroughly sheepish.

"Fancy seeing you here," Percy smiled cheerfully. "You didn't tell me about this other branch or about your summer home."

Milo blushed faintly, adjusting his glasses, "You didn't ask."

Poor Alastor barely managed to stifle a laugh.

"Well, you got me there," Percy winked, good sport as always. "We're going for some ice cream. Would you like to join us?" He asked hopefully.

When he hesitated, his father nudged him lightly, tilting his head slightly- encouraging him to go along.

"All right," Milo eventually said, shyly stowing the book in the cabinet.

"Excellent," grinned Percy, retrieving the amount to pay for the books only to be stopped by Mr. Wilkes.

"On the house," Mr. Wilkes said calmly, sparing a kind smile.

"Oh- _wow_, thanks Mr. Wilkes!"

"Think nothing of it," winked Mr. Wilkes.

Once Percy stifled the urge to thank him again, they all said goodbye and left the shop. A few minutes later they were settling into a table by the window—overlooking the main street on the Muggle side—with their ice-cream. Alastor thoroughly enjoyed his chocolate-chip crunch, Percy his apricot-honey swirl, and Milo his honey-cinnamon glory—vanilla ice cream topped with cinnamon bread bits and a bit of honey.

"Your father's awfully nice," Alastor commented. "Does he often do that?"

"No, well, he's done that for some friends of my siblings, but not for me. Not until now at least…" Milo managed a shy smile, "I haven't had friends until now. I'm not exactly a social butterfly, as I'm sure you can tell. I think the social traits were passed down through the family but there weren't any left when I was born."

Alastor nearly chuckled, but Percy nudged him a bit hard with his foot. He shot Percy a look, seeing through his innocent expression.

"It's all right to laugh. I do most of the time." Milo couldn't help a little laugh. "When you're like me, you have to learn to laugh at yourself."

"But you're not clumsy all the time, are you?" Alastor queried, unable to imagine such a thing.

"No, just when I'm flustered," said Milo, enjoying another spoonful of his ice-cream. "It's why I tend to hide in the cabinets and such when I'm not keeping the files organized or doing inventory in the back of the shop. Father says I'd make a great archivist or librarian. That's fine with me- had enough mishaps with the displays to know I'm quite useless when I'm out front with people about."

This confused Alastor on a few levels. First there was the fact that this was the most Milo has ever said- to him at least. _Does this mean he trusts me enough to tell me this?_ If Rremly were around, he'd have said that perhaps Milo found something in common with him, but Alastor was stymied as to what that commonality could be. Then, of course, there was the other matter: school.

"How do you get through exams, then?" Alastor tried to ask as gently as he could.

"The professors allow me to take all the practical exams alone before the exam date," he explained. "It's something Mother and Father worried about. It was so difficult to get me to go out and about with others or even to interact with our extended family at home. I have a really large family: both sets of grandparents, seven aunts, seven uncles, and thirty-seven cousins. There was just too many people, family or not, that I had to hide away in the armoires, cabinets, or the loft above my bedroom with a good book. I rarely met any of my parents' guests, which made a lot of them question whether or not I even _existed_."

What Milo had last said resonated with him, though not necessarily for the same reason. How many times had he been told to stay in his room when his parents had guests over? How many times had he been told to stay absolutely silent when he _had_ to be shown to their guests? Though he'd never hidden away in cabinets, he'd certainly hidden out in his room.

"It's why my parents thought I should be home-schooled, but I convinced them to let me go to Hogwarts," Milo continued. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't like being so anxious around people. I know I'll never be like my brothers and sisters, but I want to at least try to be at least a little comfortable with people." When he saw the look of absolute surprise on Alastor's face, he explained, "I won't lie, first year was…"

"Difficult?" Percy offered sympathetically.

"_Awful_," Milo corrected, somehow managing to smile the tiniest bit. "But I had to do it. It was just one of those situations where you have to sink or swim…"

Alastor had to admit he was intensely impressed with Milo's decision and fortitude in going through with it. Apparently this was news to Percy, as he, too, appeared to be quite moved, hanging on his every word.

"Has it gotten a bit easier?" Alastor simply had to ask.

"A little," smiled Milo, polishing off the last of his ice-cream with a little sound of relish. He was about to say something more when his brows furrowed slightly. "I think I hear music…"

Percy stopped with the last spoonful of ice-cream close to his lips, "I hear it, too." He listened as he enjoyed the last spoonful. "It's jazzy- I like it," he smiled, snapping his fingers in time to the rhythm.

Listening as well, Alastor could hear piano, violin, trumpet, trombone, and two other instruments he couldn't quite place. "Why don't we go take a look?"

"Brilliant idea, I say," grinned Percy, quite popping up onto his feet.

Milo caught Alastor's glance, the both of them smiling and shaking their heads at Percy's abundance of good cheer. They stood and followed Percy out onto the main street, following the music to where a jazz group, _Lilith Grace and the Brighton Boys_, had assembled just near the boardwalk. The group already had a fair gathering- all the young women eyeing the Boys in their matching light-wear brown pinstriped suits and straw boaters atop their heads. Meanwhile the men young and old had eyes only for Lilith with her peaches and cream complexion and bobbed jet black hair a nice contrast to her pale lavender chiffon summer dress, cut short with a pleasant amount of fringe.

_Lookie, lookie, lookie, here comes Cookie,_

_Walkin' down the street,_

_Lookie, lookie, lookie, I call him Cookie,_

_'Cause he's sweet!_

_Lookie, lookie, lookie, here comes Cookie,_

_What a lucky break!_

_Lookie, lookie, lookie, I call him Cookie,_

_'Cause he takes the cake!_

_When he's near, my lips say, "Oh!"_

_My heart says, "Ah! Tra-la-la!"_

_When he kisses, oh!_

_It's TNT for two!_

"I thought I recognized the music," both Milo and Percy happened to say at the same time, which prompted laughter from all three of them.

"I take it they play here often?" Alastor quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, they're quite new, just formed sometime last year- but they're the local group and they play fairly often," Percy explained, suddenly taking notice of the fact that Milo wasn't looking at the group anymore, but had fixed his gaze upwards in the opposite direction. He lifted his gaze to see what it was that had caught Milo's attention. Alastor followed their gazes, looking up as well to see a banner hung across the entry arch for the boardwalk.

_**Brighton's First Annual Jazz Event**_

_**Lilith Grace and the Brighton Boys**_

_**To Welcome Four Guest Groups From America**_

_**Brighton Pier**_

_**Evening of 24 June – 7 o'clock**_

_**Join us to make summer 1923 a special one!**_

"Sounds fantastic!" Percy beamed. "We should go. What do you think?"

"I'm game," Alastor couldn't help feeling a bit excited at the idea.

Milo took a moment to look over the boardwalk, as if canvassing the area. "Sounds fine," he finally said with a little smile. "I'm sure I'll find a safe distance to watch and listen."

* * *

The rest of the days seemed to float by in a pleasant haze. A day after they'd visited Mr. Wilkes' shop a letter came in bearing the Wilkes' seal. It was addressed to Mrs. Lockwood, but once she'd opened it she found it was an invitation for her family and both the Lockleys and Lockharts to come visit. It was a given that Percy was quite pleased with this, but it came as a surprise to see how eager Julian and Juno were- that is until Percy informed him that his oldest brother quite fancied one of Milo's twin sisters, Ariadne, and that Juno similarly fancied one of the older twin brothers, Cedric. Alastor laughed when Percy went on to say that was quite certain he'd seen a letter from Ariadne among the mass of letters Julian had to go through.

A few days later they made their way to _Seashell Chateu_ which was located on the outskirts of Salty Cove, just near the cliffs. The place was aptly named with the walk lined in seashells, and with a glance up Alastor could also see seashell wind-chimes over the front steps. What was even more impressive was the fairly large lighthouse behind the house. Once everyone was shown inside, Percy's brothers, cousins, and Milo's siblings, Cedric, Cornelius, Morwen, and Ariadne all trekked outside to take the narrow lane down to the shore. The adults also stepped outside to the tent to enjoy some snacks and refreshments- everyone except Mrs. Wilkes, her golden honey coloured hair touched with a dash of grey here and there, grey eyes alight behind antique silver heart-shaped glasses. Smiling at both Percy and Alastor, she bid them follow her out to the lighthouse.

"You'll find what you're looking for at the top," she said, her voice calm and gentle as she opened the door for them.

They thanked her and proceeded up the narrow curving stairwell to the top where they found a fairly comfortable room with a good amount of space, as it wasn't a functioning lighthouse. There was a pleasantly sized bed, a nightstand, wardrobe, small bookcase, a rocking chair, an antique harp kept in perfect condition, an elegantly understated chandelier overhead, and a large lovely looking rug to cover the cool floor. The only thing missing was Milo. They found him outside at the rail gazing at the sea.

"So much better than a tree house," Alastor commented as they joined Milo at the rail, the sea breeze tossing his careless auburn hair this way and that.

For a while no one said anything. It was a pleasant companionable silence, the sort he normally only got when he spent time alone with Rremly. Alastor always enjoyed his time with his friends, but often found himself missing Rremly greatly. The other boy had chosen to spend his summer at home with his family and Alastor didn't blame him. However, Alastor very much missed Rremly's quiet presence. Not to mention that Rremly was the one Alastor confided in, the one who understood him the most. _Thank goodness for the two-way mirrors._ Alastor would talk to Rremly about twice a week and they would keep each other updated on what they'd been doing. Alastor got the feeling that Rremly was keeping something from him, but, short of asking outright, Alastor couldn't do anything about it. Deciding to let it go, Alastor concentrated on enjoying his time with his friends.

After a while they heard Milo's sister, Morwen, calling them down to lunch. They trooped down to enjoy a pleasant lunch with everyone. Afterward, Milo's siblings led the way down to the cove, where they spent the rest of the afternoon exploring its depths.

* * *

All too soon the birthday bash was upon them. It certainly was _quite_ the party. Among Percy's large family, there were also the Wilkes, Pomfrey, Redgrave, and Hooch families in attendance. Belladonna was there, and even Alfons, Maximilian, and Felix who—though still touring through the Scandinavian countries—came for the evening to celebrate with them. After the dinner, the cake, and the opening of presents, all ten of them retreated to the main hall where Alfons took to the piano, Maximilian the violin, Felix the cello, Rremly his clarinet, and Stewart his trumpet to play a jazzy little ditty. The pleasant music eventually attracted the attention of Percy's siblings, cousins, and Milo's siblings who all came to listen.

It was something Alastor would always remember- just as he'd always remember the Jazz Event at Brighton Pier. The whole of Percy's family, joined by the Wilkes family, went to enjoy the event. Naturally, Percy, Milo, and Alastor broke away from the group to climb upon one of the boardwalk stalls. It certainly was a good vantage spot. As they listened, tapped their toes, and snapped their fingers to the music, Alastor found he rather liked the stylings of _King & The Hot Six_ while Percy particularly enjoyed _The French Quarter Cats_. Milo, though very much loyal to _Lilith Grace and the Brighton Boys_, took a shine to _Janey Kitts & The Cricket Orchestra_.

The highlight of the evening was the impromptu dance lesson provided by the groups. Percy went down alone to learn the steps, as neither Milo nor Alastor could be budged. "Learn the steps and you can teach me later," Alastor told him, amused with his brief pout. With a shared laugh, he and Milo watched Percy proceed down to join everyone else.

"He makes it look so easy," Milo commented at length, attentively watching Percy.

"Yeah," Alastor sighed a little. "He's such a natural. Bet he's just as good at waltzing. I certainly don't know how to."

Milo blushed faintly, "I can waltz… it's not so difficult, but I rather lack the grace." He dropped his gaze to his feet which dangled over the edge. "Two left feet."

Alastor turned to look at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Well, _no_, not _really_," he laughed a little, "might as well though, with all the tripping about I do."

"Bet I'm just as bad."

"No, I don't think so," Milo looked at him thoughtfully. "You're very coordinated."

"Maybe I'll let Percy teach me, then," Alastor joked, feeling a little warm in the cheeks. _That should be hilarious._

_

* * *

_

After the party and the Jazz Event, Alastor found himself back at _Lockley Castle_ where they could once again enjoy visits from Stewart, Belladonna, Griffith, and Rremly (who looked a bit pale, but otherwise insisted he was _"fine"_). Alastor, Percy, Griffith, Stewart, and Belladonna spent a lot of their time practicing for Quidditch tryouts with Josselyn and Julian putting them through their paces. Rremly joined them in the game simply for the fun of it while Poppy and Ro watched. They couldn't use real Quidditch balls, but they improvised and, as the month drew to a close, Alastor felt sure all five of them had a chance at making their respective House teams, particularly Belladonna who was a force to be reckoned with.

It was on such a pleasant day that Augustus was waiting for Alastor when he came in with Percy, Stewart, Griffith, Belladonna, and Rremly on his heels after an exhilarating Quidditch practice one balmy afternoon. Alastor's happy smile disappeared the moment he saw his father. "Hello, B-Alastor."

"Hello, Father," Alastor dropped his gaze to the floor and fought the urge to shift his feet uncomfortably, feeling distinctly sick. His father wasn't supposed to be _here_. "Is it time to go home?"

Glancing up at his father without raising his head, Alastor could tell that Augustus was livid. "Yes, Alastor, it is. Get your things."

"Yes, Father." Alastor immediately headed upstairs.

Footsteps told him he was being followed. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the others were following him.

"Al, mate, what's up with your dad?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Griff," Alastor replied, entering the guest bedroom, fighting the sick churning of his stomach.

The others accepted this and helped Alastor pack. Alastor's trunk was soon closed and locked, and he tried to take it downstairs by himself, but Percy, Rremly, and Belladonna objected and helped him. Reaching the parlour, they found Augustus speaking with Percy's parents.

"There you are. Are you ready to go now?"

"May I say good-bye?" Alastor requested, glancing over to where his friends stood, watching.

Augustus narrowed his eyes slightly, looking from Alastor to his friends and back again. "Yes, you may, just don't be all day about it." He knew his father would sooner have dragged him out, but for the fact that he was in the presence of _witnesses_, he kept calm and allowed this one kindness

"Yes, Father." Alastor walked over to the others. "Bye, Percy, thanks for letting me stay with you and your family."

Percy smile only a little, aware that there was something wrong. "You're welcome here any time, Alastor." He hugged him. "Write anytime, remember that," Percy whispered.

"Right." Alastor nodded. "Bye, Stew, Griff, and Bella I had fun practicing with you all."

Stewart grinned daffily as he cuffed Alastor's shoulder. "So did we, mate, but it won't be as much fun without you."

The others agreed with the sentiment, and it was a bit much for Alastor. He simply hugged Stewart and Griffith.

When it came to Belladonna, they gave each other a little punch on the arm. "Take care, Al," she said, taking a brief look at his father, her eyes narrowing for a moment.

"I'll do my best," was all he could say to her. He then turned back to Stewart and Griffith for a moment, just now remembering something, "Could you say good-bye to Poppy and Ro for me? Your parents as well?"

"Sure thing, mate. Stewart the Messenger at your service," Stewart offered Alastor his trademark salute. "Consider it done."

Griffith rolled his eyes. "Of course we will. Pity you can't tell them yourself."

"I know," he sighed a little, turning to Rremly who'd been waiting patiently to say his goodbye.

"I'll miss you, but I'm really glad you had such a wonderful time with Percy and Milo at Brighton," said Rremly, calm and pleasant as always with that smile that seemed almost as if it were just for him. "Take care," he said quietly when they hugged. Alastor knew Rremly well enough to know that he was deeply concerned and worried about his father's sudden presence.

"I will, and you take care, too," Alastor returned, taking a good look at him. "You _do_ look quite off."

Rremly waved it off, "Just caught a summer bug is all."

"If you say so," Alastor glanced over his shoulder at his father, then. Augustus was looking very impatient. Glancing at his friends one last time, Alastor moved over to Percy's parents.

"Thank you for letting me stay, Mr. and Mrs. Lockley."

Mr. Lockley smiled brightly and shook Alastor's hand. "You're welcome, my boy. It was a pleasure having you." He glanced at Augustus before adding. "You may come again, if you wish and if your parents allow it."

"Yes, Sir," Alastor nodded and turned to Mrs. Lockley. "You have a lovely home, Mrs. Lockley. I hope to visit again."

She smiled as Alastor shook her hand. "I look forward to seeing you again, Alastor. You were such a pleasant addition to the family," said Mrs. Lockley, looking every bit as sincere as her husband.

"Please, could you tell Joss and Jules goodbye from me?" Alastor asked hopefully.

Mr. Lockley chuckled, "Of course, don't worry about it. Just take care."

"Come, Alastor." Augustus sounded very impatient by now. Alastor thanked them one last time before walking over to where his father waited by his trunk. Augustus' hand landed heavily on Alastor's shoulder, just before he activated the portkey.

* * *

A/N: _"Lookie, Lookie, Lookie, Here Comes Cookie"_ - Cleo Brown 1935


	18. Goodbye Doesn't Mean Forever

**18. ****Goodbye Doesn't Mean Forever**

Alastor wasn't surprised to find himself on the floor of his father's study once more. This time, Augustus had sent him crashing into the desk. He cracked his head on it quite hard, and he felt something warm and sticky against the back of his head. He touched his fingers to the spot. He didn't even have to look at his fingers to know they were slick with blood.

Two backhands in rapid succession left Alastor in a heap on the floor—both cheeks throbbing—when he tried to get to his feet carefully. His head was throbbing horribly and his cheeks were on fire. He was too dizzy to even bother trying to get up.

Augustus grabbed Alastor's upper arm and dragged him from the room. The fact that his father was actually _dragging_ him anywhere coupled with the fact that he hadn't _spoken_—not even to berate Alastor as he usually did—informed him that he was in for a world of _pain_. He felt sick and more frightened that he'd ever felt before.

_It'll be over soon. It'll be over soon. It has to be over soon…_

Alastor was dragged to the stairwell where a tapestry covered a door underneath the stairs. What was behind the door was an absolute mystery to the family. No one was permitted to enter it. Alastor, who had never even looked at the spot lest he get in trouble for it, had never once held any curiosity about it. Now the tapestry was wrenched back and the door opened, and Alastor felt his heart clench.

What lay behind the door was a narrow curving stairway that led downwards, shrouded in darkness. When they reached the bottom Augustus lit the candelabra, which was the sole source of light in the room. There wasn't much to see, just a cold empty chamber with a hard uncomfortable chair with straps, an awful wrought iron cage that hung high overhead, and a chest with things that Alastor didn't care to imagine.

Suddenly his father tore his shirt open, shaking him roughly as he wrenched it off. Alastor screamed, his pain exacerbated by the rough shaking. Augustus shoved him against the cold stone wall, pinning Alastor's hands high above his head. Cold shackles encircled his wrists as he heard his father walk away. The chest opened and then closed.

The cruel crack of a whip cut through the air…

* * *

"_Al, you need to wake up. Oh, please, wake up." _

When Alastor woke, he wondered briefly if he were dead. The darkness was so absolute. Then a second later he registered the feel of a futon beneath him, a soft pillow beneath his head, a warm presence beside him, the faintest scent of apples, and the soft stroking of someone's hand along his cheek and hair. Then came the realization that—while he was still in a lot of pain—it wasn't the pain he should be feeling from the brutal beating and whipping he'd taken.

_I must be dreaming_.

"Al?"

_Now I know I'm dreaming! That can't be…_

"Rrem?"

"Al! Oh, thank Merlin!" Rremly whispered. His voice was thicker than Alastor had ever heard it. He could hear the tears and the relief in that voice. He felt Rremly shift. The darkness became less oppressive now that Rremly had lit a single candle.

"Oh no, Al, _please_ stay awake!"

He blinked his eyes a few time to keep them open.

"You can't fall asleep," said Rremly, quietly.

"Why not?"

"You have a concussion," Rremly explained. "You need to stay awake, and it's better if you're up." He gently took Alastor's hand, clasping it. "I know it'll hurt, but do you think you can sit up?"

It broke his heart to hear the anguish in Rremly's voice. "I can try."

"Don't worry, I'll help you," came his tearful reassurance.

Gently, Rremly cupped his elbows, taking great care as he slowly drew Alastor up into a sitting position. Gritting his teeth, Alastor struggled against the brief darkening of his vision and the rush of lightheadedness. Easing to lean back against the wall, Rremly carefully pulled Alastor to rest against his chest, keeping his arms around him.

"There, you did fine," murmured Rremly as Alastor buried his face against Rremly's neck, crying quietly.

"No, please don't cry," said Rremly, shedding his own tears. "It'll make you hurt worse."

Rremly was right. It _did_ make him hurt worse, but now that he'd started he couldn't stop. He curled into Rremly's hold, his hand gripping Rremly's shirt. He kept crying even as he felt Rremly stroking his hair with one hand while the other stroked his side, never once straying to his back. Alastor knew good and well why Rremly wasn't stroking his back as he usually did. The wounds on his back were slicked with balm. It would be a week or more before his back was clear and unmarked.

"It's going to be all right, Al," Rremly spoke softly, trying hard to comfort him. "We're getting you out of here tomorrow."

This certainly got Alastor's attention, "What?" Through his crying he managed to ask, "We? Who's _we_?"

"Your brother, Bella, and I. He and Lolo tended to you before he sent Lolo to fetch me. It's only been two hours since you left, but you really can't tell with it being so dark in here. I was really worried. Bella and I had such bad feelings- we both knew something bad was going to happen. We went back to my house to talk about things- to think of something we could do. Stew and Percy came just before Lolo appeared. Bella and I had to convince them to stay behind with Holden to explain things to my parents—"

"Wait, Bella's _here_?"

"Yes, she's up at the top of the stairs keeping vigil at the door. Your father's planning to keep you down here for the next two months. Only Lolo's allowed to come bring you food and tend to you. Your father's also going to remove you from school."

Alastor's heart and lungs tightened horribly inside him. He struggled to breathe. He heard Rremly's voice as if it were coming from a great distance. Then Rremly's lips were against his hair, temple, cheek, and then his lips. The cold he felt slowly began to recede. The tiniest bit of warmth stole through him and his chest no longer felt so heavy and tight.

"We're getting you out of here, just remember that," whispered Rremly, looking deep into his eyes. Alastor rather liked how soothing and comforting it felt to have Rremly's warm breath fanning against his skin.

"_How_?"

"Tomorrow, after your parents have left, Lolo will come and take us all back to my house. Aurelius will wait until your parents are asleep to go through your room and pack everything up and have it sent over. Then he'll free Lolo and he'll ask Lolo to go to Hogwarts after he gets us home. Of course he'll make it look like an accident, his freeing Lolo, I mean. He said he'll take the consequences himself so that you and Lolo don't get hurt."

It was too much to believe. It was enough to reaffirm to Alastor that this was a dream, only a dream.

"He's _really_ going to do that?"

"You didn't see him when Lolo brought us here. His eyes were rimmed red from crying and there was blood all over his clothes from tending to your wounds. He kept apologizing to you over and over again- said something about his having meant to warn you to get to Stew's before your father was due to come, but your father went to fetch you earlier and he only found out about it when you were brought home."

Tears slid down Alastor's cheeks. Aurelius _truly_ cared for him. "Will I be able to say goodbye to him?" He almost choked on his tears.

"Yes," Rremly reassured him, kissing his cheek. "He'll come down when he's finished packing up your things."

"This _can't_ be real… I mean, why not leave now?"

"You're not fit for any sort of travel- not with your concussion. You can hardly move."

Alastor sighed. It was true, he could hardly move without eliciting dull throbs of pain from his head and dull stinging from his back.

"It still doesn't make sense," he voiced, working to keep his thoughts in order and his eyes open. "Why bring you and Bella here when there's nothing to do but wait?"

"He wanted someone to stay with you and take care of you. He has to stay visible to your parents otherwise they'll find out what he's planning to do." Rremly told him quietly. "Al, I told you he was half-mad when we came. When he first saw you he thought you were dead. He was so scared, but then you came around long enough for him and Lolo to treat you. When you passed out again, he knew to send for me- knew that I'd keep you awake long enough to get you past danger."

"Why _you_?"

"He sees a lot more than you think, Al. He's been watching you a lot at Hogwarts. He knew we were close- that we're all very close. I really think he was jealous. I think he really wants what you have. He hasn't any real friends of his own. When you started at Hogwarts and met us—stood by us even though you knew it went against what your family wanted and that you'd be punished for it—you really gave him an example of real courage and true friendship."

"What? But, he's the favorite- our parents _love_ him."

"You're not listening. If he were truly loved, he would have known what love is. He would have known what friendship is. If he was loved, he wouldn't have treated you the way he did your first year. He wouldn't have had to secure his standing with your parents at your expense. Your parents don't love him any more than they love you. Don't think for one minute they won't turn on him the moment they realize that not only was he the one that orchestrated your escape, but that he's also been helping you as much as he could the past year."

It took a little while for what Rremly said to sink in. It was a lot to process in his current state. _They wouldn't __**really **__hurt him, would they?_ He'd always thought it impossible- _unthinkable_, even. Yet now, things have changed so drastically. Anything was possible now.

Several minutes passed by in silence. Then a sudden crack announced Lolo's presence. The elf set down three goblets and a large platter, uncovering it to reveal enough food to feed all three of them.

"Thank you, Lolo," said Alastor. The poor elf nodded, his large eyes full of sorrow for his master. "Before you go, could you please ask Bella to come down?"

"Yes, of course, master Al," nodded Lolo, leaving them to climb the stairs.

A minute passed by before they heard another crack and the sound of descending footsteps. Then, out of the darkness, Bella appeared. She came close and sat beside them. In the candlelight, Alastor could see her eyes were a little bit red. She, too, had been crying. She took his hand and held it tight. Her palm felt a bit moist and a little bit sticky.

"Bella, your hand—"

"It's nothing," she said, drawing her hand back. There were very small cuts on her palm, and there was a little blood. "Just gripped my hands too hard," she took the end of her shirt to clean away the blood. "Should've just let me hex the bastard." Her words brought to mind the letter she'd written last year. It just nearly got a smile from him.

"You should really drink something, Al. You must be parched. Bella, can you please—" Rremly carefully took the goblet she'd handed to him. "Thanks," now he offered it to Alastor, who, with a shaking hand, tried to hold it carefully. He spilled just a little bit of the drink, but Rremly kept his hand steady over Alastor's, helping him drink. When he'd had enough to drink, Rremly set the goblet aside. Then, taking one of the small bowls of risotto and a fork, Belladonna eased closer. She kept a firm hold on the bowl as she offered the fork to Alastor. When he took it, she held his hand steady. It took a while, but eventually Alastor managed to eat close to half the bowl. Both Belladonna and Rremly finished off the rest. Rremly said they should save the rest of the food in case they get hungry again before Lolo was to come with dinner.

For the next three hours (according to Rremly's pocket watch) Rremly and Belladonna took to quizzing Alastor on Herbology, History of Magic, Charms, Transfiguration, and Astronomy—not just to help him review for the new term, but mostly to keep him alert and talking. When he began to give them strange and nonsense answers, they wisely changed tactics. Belladonna suggested they teach Alastor the words to one of Stewart's newest silly songs. That was more than fine for Alastor.

_I have a tale to tell._

_It might just save your lives but only if you listen well._

_'Cause there before the breakers_

_And just around the way,_

_There's a sign that says,_

_"Beware The Beast of Pirate's Bay!"_

_Some say he's a guppy a kid threw in the sea._

_He ate so many sailors, now he's bigger than a tree._

_His teeth are sharp as scissors_

_His claws, they are like knives._

_And if you think he's ugly, wait 'til you see his insides!_

_Oh, don't you sail and don't you row and certainly don't you swim,_

_'Cause if you aren't careful you'll end up inside of him._

_He'll eat you up, he'll spit you out. You'd better stay away._

_Heed the sign that says, "Beware the Beast of Pirate's Bay!"_

_Some say he's a serpent that came straight from hell,_

_He came to eat the souls of pirates and other ne'er-do-wells._

_Some they don't believe it, as for me I've got a hunch._

_'Cause they used to have some pirates here._

_But he ate them all for lunch!_

_Oh, don't you sail and don't you row and certainly don't you swim,_

_'Cause if you aren't careful you'll end up inside of him._

_He'll eat you up, he'll spit you out. You'd better stay away._

_Heed the sign that says, "Beware the Beast of Pirate's Bay!"_

_

* * *

_

It was near midnight. They'd long since ceased to talk. Lolo had come again with dinner and with more Murtlap Essence for Alastor's back and bandages for his scarred wrists. The shackles had bruised and torn his skin, drawing a fair amount of blood. Something else Lolo had brought with him were two new candles, as the first one was moments from burning itself out.

After eating, Alastor was allowed to sleep for a bit, as Lolo and Rremly had said he was past the danger. However, even so, he was woken every now and again, only so briefly, by Rremly who was obviously still a little frightened he might slip away in his sleep. Rremly kept hold of Alastor even though he protested that Rremly must be sore and cramped from sitting and holding him as long as he had without shifting and changing positions completely. He knew Rremly was afraid to let him go, and truth be told, he was afraid to be let go. Even Belladonna remained glued to their side, keeping a firm grip on Alastor's hand. Alastor felt her leave a few times to listen at the door and make certain that all was calm and clear, but she always came down within a few minutes to re-join them, holding Alastor's hand once again.

A little while later Alastor woke to the sound of Belladonna leaving again. He thought nothing of it until he felt a firmer hand, just a little larger than Belladonna's, touch his arm. Alastor blearily opened his eyes to find Aurelius where Belladonna should have been.

"_Aurelius!"_

"Promised I'd come, didn't I?" He said quietly. He looked sadder than Alastor had ever seen him. "Here, I brought down a shirt for you. It's too cold down here. Don't worry about your back. It's looking a lot better than it did when I found you- not saying that it won't hurt to have fabric against it, but it's that or catch a chill."

Alastor nodded slightly, steeling himself for the pain. Rremly helped ease him up again, and carefully helped to get his arms through the sleeves as Aurelius held it up. Thankfully it didn't take too long to get it on, with Rremly making quick work with the buttons while Aurelius held Alastor up.

"Thank you," Alastor managed to say, trying to keep his breathing even as he waited for the pain to abate.

"Don't thank me yet," said Aurelius. Alastor could hear the regret in his quiet voice. "Thank me when you're out of here- when you're safe."

He nodded, too worried to argue. "You should come with us. I mean- do you have any idea what might happen to you if you stay?"

"Nothing that hasn't already happened to you. As far as first offenses go, this is pretty serious," here he held up a finger to keep Alastor from speaking. "Don't worry. First chance I get, I'm leaving. I'll come to see you then."

Alastor clasped his hand. "You promise?"

"_No_, don't make that promise," Rremly said suddenly, quite startling Alastor. "Just say you'll do everything you can to be there."

Confused, Alastor looked between Rremly and Aurelius. His best friend had tears in his eyes. Aurelius's eyes weren't dry either, and he was looking at Rremly strangely, as if he was seeing—_truly_ seeing him—for the first time.

"I'll do everything I can," he managed to say through the thickness of his voice.

A horrible coldness cut through him. Fear was beginning to fill him, squeezing out the air from his lungs. _"What's going on?"_

"Nothing," Aurelius said soothingly, leaning forward to gently hug him _and_ Rremly. "Everything's going to be all right."

They held on to each other for several long minutes. Alastor could feel that time slipping away, could feel himself begin to quietly cry again. He couldn't understand why he felt as though something awful was going to happen to Aurelius. After a few more minutes that felt like only so few seconds, Aurelius gently drew away. He put his hand in his pocket and withdrew his monogrammed handkerchief, placing it in Alastor's hand.

"Goodbye, Alastor."

"_Don't_ call me that. Call me _Al_," he choked on his words, "and _don't_ say goodbye!"

"Goodbye doesn't mean forever," Aurelius squeezed his hand. "Remember that, _Al_."

Swallowing back a sob, he nodded. _Goodbye doesn't mean forever. _He mentally repeated the words several times, wanting it to sink- needing to believe it.

"You'll be all right," Aurelius whispered, giving his hand another squeeze. "Be true to yourself. Live honestly. Be the better man."

"I will." He could barely get the words out. "I'll make you proud."

"I'm already proud," Aurelius smiled- his first smile. It broke Alastor's heart.

Aurelius kissed the top of his head, gave his hand another gentle squeeze, and left. He could hear Aurelius's steps upon the stairs, growing fainter and fainter. He was shaking with the need to cry again. Rremly kissed him again, doing his best to comfort him, coaxing him to lie down. Suddenly Belladonna was there beside them. Alastor hadn't even heard her coming down. She waited until they'd gotten comfortable before taking the blanket Aurelius had left her to drape across them. When she made to leave, Alastor grasped at her pant leg. A second later she settled herself on Alastor's other side, taking care not to press too close to his back.

Without any verbal agreement, they left the candle lit.

* * *

A/N: _"The Beast of Pirate's Bay" _– Voltaire 2008


	19. Innocence Lost

**19. Innocence Lost **

The next morning Alastor was woken by Rremly, who gave his arm the gentlest of shakes to rouse him. Blearily opening his eyes he found that the candle had, of course, burnt itself out. He could see nothing but darkness.

"Lolo's here," said Rremly, helping him to sit up. "It's time to go."

Alastor threw his mind into gear, trying to get himself past the dull groggy haze he seemed to be trapped in. Exhaustion and heaviness coated him like a second skin. His head still throbbed in time with the beats of his heart.

"We're ready now," said Belladonna.

He felt Rremly clasp his hand and then felt Lolo's hand taking his other hand. There was a pull and a rush and then suddenly Alastor was on the floor of Rremly's room. He winced and groaned at the daylight that filled the room. It burned his eyes. He felt Rremly release his hand and seconds later the curtains were drawn. By the time Rremly and Belladonna got him onto the bed, Alastor heard the door burst open.

"Al!"

"Thank Merlin!"

Percy and Stewart hastened to the bed. When Alastor looked at them, he knew for certain that neither had slept a wink. Their eyes were tired and they both looked a bit pale. They took his hands and held them very tight, as if to reassure themselves he was really there. Before any more words could be spoken, a new voice sounded in the room.

"All right you four," said Madam Arden, to Alastor's intense surprise. "Please do excuse us. Do proceed back downstairs to your families."

For a moment it almost seemed as though both Stewart and Percy were going to defy her and stay, but they eventually released his hands, sparing him deeply concerned glances as they made their way to the door. Belladonna gave his shoulder a pat and Rremly gave his arm a light stroke before they, too, left the room.

That was when he noticed that someone else had come up with Madam Arden. Stephen closed the door and came closer. It was odd, but Alastor felt a strange calm stealing over him. He felt the pain- _that_ hadn't gone away, but there was a gentle calm sweeping over him. It was comforting and he felt safe. Alastor was very glad that Stephen was here. Madam Arden and Stephen exchanged glances. She gave a nod and he came up to the bed and sat upon it, letting his hand rest over Alastor's.

"Alastor, can you tell me what was done to you?" Stephen asked gently, his voice quiet and patient.

He gave a little nod and began to tell him everything. It was peculiar, but Alastor found it easy to tell him. He felt so secure that it didn't bother him that Madam Arden was still in the room with them. There was just something compelling about Stephen. It felt _right_ to tell him.

"Has this been done to you before?"

Alastor shook his head, telling him of all the various punishments he'd endured over the years. It felt good to finally say it. Though Stephen remained utterly calm and patient while listening to Alastor, he could see the brief changes in his eyes. He knew Stephan was angry and appalled.

At length Stephen rose to his feet, "Thank you for telling me everything you did," he said, "but right now, I need you to remove your shirt and turn onto your stomach, please. Will you need help with the shirt?"

"No, I can do it."

Though it was still painful, Alastor managed to get it off without too much time going by and carefully shifted onto his stomach.

"Wonderful, thank you. Now, do relax as much as you can."

Closing his eyes against the dull pain in his head and back, Alastor tried as best as he could to be still, to breathe evenly, and to relax as much as he could. After several long moments, he suddenly became aware of Stephen's fingers gently tracing over the gash on his head- felt something cool and moist being applied to the spot. For a few brief moments it felt as if the solution was being absorbed by his skin, seeping into him. Then, as Stephen held his fingers there, he began to feel the spot tingle quite a lot. It stopped after a bit and was followed by warmth which spread all over his head. The warmth was intensely wonderful and relaxing, and he mourned the loss of that warmth when it faded. Then it hit him- his head felt so much better, lighter even, and there was no more pain.

Next was his back. He felt it all over again- the cool solution, the tingling, the warmth, and the absence of pain. Stephen then took a moment to whisper something to Madam Arden, at which point she rose and left the room, closing the door behind her. When they were alone, Stephen asked him if he'd like to be rid of the scars along his bottom. After Alastor nodded, quite emphatically, Stephen set to work. Afterward, Madam Arden returned and his wrists were tended to.

Stephen then placed a mirror in Alastor's hand and held up a large one behind him. Alastor stared in awe. His back was completely unmarked and his skin even looked (and felt) softer and _new_.

"_How_ did you do that?"

Stephen smiled, "That's a discussion for later." Now he let the smile fade, and he was calm and serious once more. "Right now I need to ask you about your brother. Was he ever treated in a similar fashion?"

"No, not that I know of, but I think he will be when Father finds out that I'm gone and that he helped."

Memories of Rremly's explanation and Aurelius's parting words came to mind, bringing with them the worry and anxiety he'd felt- but then it started to fade when Stephen placed a hand upon his shoulder. He saw Madam Arden rise, quickly leaving the room. He didn't think anything of it. All he thought of was the gentle calm that seemed to emanate from Stephen.

"It'll be all right. Just take your ease here and I'll send your friends up to see you."

"Thank you, Stephen," Alastor had to say before he left. "Really, thank you for _everything_."

Stephen smiled a little, "You're welcome. I'm very glad I was able to help you." Alastor could hear the slight catch in his voice, and he saw a look in his eyes that he couldn't quite figure out, and before he could, Stephen patted his shoulder and left the room.

Now alone, pain-free, and in a better frame of mind, Alastor took a look around the room. He'd been here a few times before and always found the room warm and comforting. The room was comfortably sized with a sloping ceiling and a window seat. The walls were white and there was white wicker furniture: desk, bookcase, and rocking chair. The bed, dresser, desk chair, and armoire were white-washed wood, and there was no mirror- though Alastor presumed there might be one on the inside of the armoire. To off-set the whiteness of the room the drapes were a lovely yellow and light orange brocade, the bed clothes and linens were sunlit yellow and sunset orange, and so, too, were the rug and the afghan draped over the rocking chair. Rremly's room was warmth- was sunrise and sunset.

Everything was tidy. There was no clutter and not a single thing was out of place. In fact, the only things he could see that were displayed was a framed photograph of Rremly and his family outside in what looked to be their garden. Next to it was another framed photograph featuring the group: Rremly, himself, Stewart, Percy, Belladonna, and Griffith. Alastor vaguely remembered Rremly coaxing him to join them for the picture last year. Then he saw it- Rremly's two-way mirror lay in the space between the two frames.

Suddenly Alastor was enveloped by two pairs of arms. Stewart and Percy had come in and he hadn't heard them. They were crying.

"I'm all right," said Alastor, wanting to comfort them, but not quite sure how to go about it. His words definitely had an effect, though perhaps not quite the effect he wanted.

Stewart drew back, still crying, his eyes red-rimmed, looking hard at Alastor. There was no mirth or light in his eyes. He was serious- _frighteningly_ serious.

"_No_, you bloody well _weren't_ all right!"

"Stew!" Percy was clearly as shocked as he was. Even Belladonna looked at Stew with some surprise, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Only Rremly looked as though he'd been expecting this, but it didn't stop him looking pained as he reached out to touch Stewart's arm. Stewart shook him off.

"Well, he _wasn't_! A feather could have knocked him over."

"But I'm fine now. That's all that—"

"_You could have died!_ You should have told us- told _me_ about what was going on! I never would have endangered you like that if I'd known- _really_ known! My parents could have done something! Percy's parents could have done something! Do you have any idea what Percy felt when he found out what was going on? Do you have any idea how his parents felt? How _my_ parents felt? They were so upset and they were so afraid for you!"

Alastor couldn't bear it. His heart was clenching so tight it hurt to breathe. He'd give anything just to see Stewart happy, care-free, and smiling again. It wasn't just seeing Stewart upset and hurt beyond words, it was hearing him speaking through his crying that broke his heart.

"I never thought things could be different!" Alastor managed to get out as he, too, was crying. "I thought my life was _normal_- that other families operate in the same way! Then I met all of you and your families- it was too good to be true. I begged you not to say anything to your parents because I thought they'd have to tell mine. Parents don't lie to other parents," he broke off, unable to get any other words out.

If anything, Stewart looked even more wounded. "My parents _love_ you! If they knew, they would have done _everything_ to get you out of there! They're smart and compassionate enough to know that sometimes you do have to break a rule in order to keep someone else safe!"

Belladonna moved close and grabbed Stewart's arm, "That's _enough_!"

"He's right, though." Percy said, his voice thick and halting. "My parents—all our parents—would have _felt_ the same- _done_ the same."

"We almost _lost_ a best friend," murmured Stewart, his voice quietly hoarse.

To see Stewart like that was awful and…_humbling_. Those blue eyes were never going to be the same again. Oh, they'll dance and twinkle- and he might smile and laugh in the years to come, but his eyes will show how much he'd aged emotionally. His eyes will tell the story of his first experience with life's cruelties. Stewart would now understand that the world, while holding great potential for beauty and wonder, also held equal potential for ugliness and misery.

Without a word, Alastor crossed the room and embraced Stewart. They held each other tightly for several long moments, sharing tears and ragged breathing. Three pairs of arms encircled them. It was the first time Alastor had ever experienced such an embrace.

A quiet knock at the door interrupted the silence. The door opened to reveal Holden. He, too, looked as though he hadn't slept at all.

"Al, you're wanted downstairs in the parlor," Holden told him quietly. Catching sight of the anxious expression on Alastor's face, he went on to reassure him, "It's all right, really."

Still a bit anxious, Alastor nodded slightly and went for the door.

"You four should stay up here for the moment."

Alastor glanced over his shoulder to see that the others had been about to follow. Now he was really anxious, but at Holden's slight gesture, he left the room. He took his time going downstairs. Once he'd reached the bottom, Alastor had a clear view of the parlor where he could see Rremly's, Stewart's, and Percy's parents, Madam Arden, and Professor Morrigan—the Head of Slytherin House—all talking amongst themselves. The sight of all of them did nothing for his anxiety. At that moment, Mrs. Redgrave caught sight of him. She wiped away a tear and then smiled reassuringly, beckoning him over. Everyone fell silent and looked over at him. Alastor knew then that Madam Arden had told them everything.

When he drew closer, Mrs. Pomfrey left her seat and immediately knelt down and embraced him warmly. It took him completely by surprise- but he was floored when Mrs. Redgrave and Mrs. Lockley also hugged him warmly. They were all so glad to see that he was all right- a sentiment which was also shared by Mr. Pomfrey, Mr. Redgrave, and Mr. Lockley. Eventually they'd all satisfied themselves that he was all right and returned to their seats. Mrs. Pomfrey guided him over to sit between herself and Mrs. Lockley.

Professor Morrigan drew closer but remained standing. He was every bit as dapper as he was at Hogwarts with his fine long platinum blond hair—always held back with a black ribbon in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck in a very 18th century sort of way—light green eyes, thin pointed nose, and stately carriage.

"Mr. Moody," he began, his voice patient, "you should know that your brother will be brought here shortly and that Professor Ellerhone has volunteered to be your guardian until you both come of age."

_Professor Ellerhone __**wants **__to be our guardian?_

Ornella Ellerhone was the pale, raven-haired, grey eyed professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts who was more apt to smile wickedly rather than frown. She had long curly black hair that stopped just at the small of her back, typically wore an obsidian bat pendant around her neck, and was always at home in her gothic fashions. She was quite mischievous, clever, and was his favourite professor. She was _everyone's_ favourite professor. He knew she was fond of Stewart and Alfons and he knew that Alfons, Maximilian, Felix, and Belladonna respected her quite highly. She was the sort of woman everyone would love to have as a mother, or an aunt at least- and she'd _offered_ to be his and Aurelius's guardian.

"However, until term begins you and your brother will be stay here with the Redgraves."

Professor Morrigan's voice brought him back to the present. A quick glance towards Mr. and Mrs. Redgrave told him that they were more than happy to have him stay. He was dangerously close to shedding more tears. This was all just too good to be true.

"Naturally there'll be a hearing and you and your brother will have to attend—"

The sudden appearance of Stephen, Professors Dumbledore and Ellerhone, and Aurelius—who was leaning heavily against Professor Ellerhone—rather halted his words. Alastor didn't even have time to notice that Aurelius's arm and leg were broken. All Alastor could see were the tiny trails of blood around Aurelius's eyes and mouth where they'd been _sewn_ shut.


	20. The Guardian Bat and the Power of Dreams

**20. The Guardian Bat and the Power of Dreams**

_His eyes and lips are sewn shut. _The thought kept repeating itself in his mind. He knew from Stephen that in muggle medicine stitches were used to close wounds, to help the skin regenerate and heal itself. He'd never considered for a moment that stitching could be used to cause pain- to blind or silence someone. It was sickening.

Tears flooded his eyes, but even through the blur he could see those awful stitches. Where was his brother? All he could see before him was a human-sized Voodoo doll. Any moment the doll would tumble over and land in a heap at his feet. Where was his brother? Was he alive?

Alastor felt sick. He was in a dark place. There was no light and it felt cold. Yet, even without light, he could see in the darkness the doll at his feet. As he gazed at it, blood began to pour from those stitched eyes and mouth. It circled him, staining his shoes. There was just so much blood.

Everything inside him churned. The bile rose, filling his throat and mouth. He sicked himself and when there was nothing left inside him, the darkness closed in. The floor disappeared beneath his feet. He was falling…falling…falling.

* * *

_Opening his eyes, Alastor found himself floating in cold black water in a deep cavern. Panic swept over him and he began to sink. How had he gotten there, he wondered as he worked hard to keep afloat. He couldn't swim and he was truly afraid. How was he going to get out? He was starting to sink again. Water flooded his mouth and nose. He couldn't keep his head above the water. Desperate now, he knew there was nothing to do but to cry for help._

"_HELP! PLEASE, SOMEONE HELP ME!"_

_His cry echoed loudly through the abyss. It was almost as if there were several Alastors screaming out. Then another sound filled the grotto. It was high-pitched- an animal sound. As it grew closer he could hear flapping sounds, and then he saw it: a bat. The bat fluttered down, bumping against the rock wall. He watched it flutter and bump against the wall a second time. In amazement, Alastor saw a rope hanging there where the bat kept hovering. _

_Splashing haphazardly, he grasped at the rock wall and reached up to grab the rope. His wet hand slid against the rope and he almost sank back into the water had it not been for his other hand clutching the rock. He tried to think. How was he going to climb up? The only thing he could think to do was to dry his hands, but how? There was no way he could clap or rub his hands dry without sinking. The only thing to do was to wait for them to dry naturally. He would have to be patient._

_The cold was getting to him now that he was no longer moving. Keeping one hand on the rock, he waved the other hoping the pitiful breeze he created would dry his hand faster and did his best to keep his legs moving beneath the water. After what seemed like forever, he switched hands and forced himself to keep moving. _

_At length he was able to reach up for the rope. He began to pull himself up. When he'd pulled himself up enough to carefully stand upon the rock which jutted out, he wrapped the slack around his arm and attempted to continue to climb, but his wet shoes were far too slick against the wall. He'd have to do without the shoes. He slipped them off and heard them fall into the water with a loud splash. _

_It was hard, toiling work to keep climbing. The wall seemed to stretch up forever and the rocks cut into his feet, but he knew he had to keep going. There was nothing else he could do and no other way out. He was at least grateful for the bat's company as it kept flying around him. He even got used to the high-pitched noise it made. _

_He kept on climbing until his head knocked against something hard above him. It was rock, one large rock that seemed to me immovable. No, it couldn't be. This was the way out! Where else was there to go but up and out? It couldn't end like this! How bitterly unfair! The despair he felt was so acute he briefly pondered simply letting go, letting himself fall to his death. _

_No, there has to be a way out. I have to try! He used his free arm to push __**hard**__against it. It didn't move, but he kept pushing- kept trying. He couldn't give up so easily. He kept at it. After a long while, the rock budged a bit. Alastor cried tears of joy. He pushed, pushed, pushed, and pushed until the rock was over the edge enough to topple over. He screamed for the joy of it as he climbed out with what little energy he had left and toppled down onto the grass, gasping for breath, his chest heaving, tears coursing down his face._

_Above him shone the moon, full and luminous, and the night sky was alight with stars. Out of the well flew the bat. It circled him, fluttered down close to him, and then flew away into the woods. In the distance a wolf howled—plaintive… poignant. The sound went straight through his heart. He howled back. Silence. Another howl was heard. The wolf had answered his call._

_

* * *

_

When Alastor opened his eyes he found that he was back in Rremly's room. Moonlight spilled in from the window, easing the darkness. He felt safe and warm, and with a glance around he realized that was partly due to the fact that he wasn't alone. Rremly's bed had apparently been enlarged to accommodate everyone. Rremly lay asleep on his left side, Stewart on his right, while Belladonna and Percy lay comfortably at the foot of the bed. It brought a little smile to his face.

A tap-tap-tap against the window drew his attention. Shifting, he craned his neck back to see an owl outside the window. As he stared at it he realized he was looking at Ludwig II, the Ural owl that belonged to Alfons and Maximilian. The bed shifted around him. Rremly and Belladonna were now awake and looking at the owl, too. They all eased out of bed, one at a time so as not to disturb Percy and Stewart. Rremly crept to the window and opened it quietly. Ludwig flew in, landing upon Alastor's arm and released the letter in its beak into his hand. Startled, he glanced down to see the name on the letter. Sure enough, there it was: Alastor Moody. Granted he had gotten letters from them, one every week, while he'd stayed with Percy's family- but how could they know he was staying with the Redgraves now?

"Thanks," whispered Alastor, giving Ludwig a gentle stroke.

Rremly smiled and gave Ludwig a treat, "Eingeben Fonzie und Max unserer Liebe. Fliege sicher."1

Ludwig hooted twice and took flight straight out into the moonlit night. Rremly closed the window and turned back to them.

"What?"

"Since when can you speak German?" Alastor and Belladonna whispered in unison, surprising themselves and Rremly who smiled at them.

"Since always," he explained with a patient smile. "Oma, my mother's mother, is German. She left Heidelberg, came to London, and married into the Redgrave family."

Alastor and Belladonna exchanged glances. "You never said anything," said Alastor.

"You never asked." Rremly smiled again, giving a little shrug.

In that moment, Alastor was strongly reminded of when he and Percy had come across Milo in his father's bookstore in _Neptune's Alley_.

"_Fancy seeing you here," Percy smiled cheerfully. "You didn't tell me about this other branch or about your summer home."_

_Milo blushed faintly, adjusting his glasses, "You didn't ask."_

He couldn't help it. He smiled a little. It was pleasantly amusing that Rremly and Milo should have that in common. Shaking his head to himself, he decided to ask more about that later. Right now there was a letter in his hand that he had to read. Unfolding the letter he found Alfons' impeccably fine writing.

_Al,_

_Max and I had the most horrible dream about you and your brother four nights ago. It was awful, and believe me, we've had some terrible dreams before, but this… it felt so real- too real. Usually, when we get dreams like that, they __**do**__ turn out to be real—things that happened, are happening, or haven't happened yet. Please, don't think we're mental, we do enough of that ourselves. It's just, well, you almost died in a very dark place- a dungeon we suppose. Then you were gone, but your brother was there… and his eyes and mouth were stitched up. Your mother was there, too. She was on the ground. Her eyes were just staring upward… she was dead. _

_We wanted to write you straightaway but we had to wait for Ludwig to get back from hunting. We know this letter might be late in getting to you, but please write back and let us know you're all right! Send it to Snowdrop Cottage in Sweden. Remember, write back straightaway. If we don't hear from you in, let's say four days, we'll cancel our trip and come back to merry olde England and find out what's been going on. _

_Your friends,_

_Fonzie and Max_

_p.s. If you're wondering how we knew to send it to Cider Cottage, well, that was the last part of the dream. We saw the house and Rremly's bedroom window. We figured that must be where you are now._

Alastor stared at the letter in shock. He didn't notice that he'd slumped to his knees on the floor. Nor did he notice that Rremly and Belladonna had joined him on the floor, their arms around him. All he could think about was what the twins had seen- how they could have seen it. Were they Seers? No, they couldn't be. They mentioned they sometimes dream of things that have already happened. Seers see the future, not the past.

_Don't they?_

An image of his mother came to mind and he remembered that they'd seen her in the dream.

_She's dead. She's dead. My mother's dead._

The thought kept repeating itself. He didn't know quite what to feel. He'd never hated her, nor had he ever wished her dead. All he'd ever wanted was for her to love to him, to look at him as she looked at Aurelius, or better yet, he wished for the same looks Mrs. Pomfrey, Mrs. Redgrave, Mrs. Lockley, Mrs. Wilkes, and Mrs. Hooch gave their children. Oh, he'd known she never would, but at least there had been that impossible hope that someday it might be different. Now that she was dead, there would never be a chance, no matter how slight.

The letter slipped from his hand. He really couldn't be bothered to pick it up. Belladonna plucked it up, said something he couldn't hear. He heard Rremly answer back, but he had no idea what had been said even though both of them were beside him. Alastor got to his feet and left the room, shutting the door behind him. He had to see Aurelius.

Images of the Voodoo doll crept back into his mind as he wiped away the tears that were spilling down his cheeks. He went across to Holden's bedroom door, cautiously easing it open. His guess had been right. Aurelius lay quietly sleeping on Holden's bed while Holden and Stephen slept on what seemed to be a comfortable cushion on the floor. There was still some space that enabled him to creep silently over to the bed.

Aurelius looked much better now. There was not a single stitch in sight. He noticed there was a seat beside the bed and sat upon it, letting his hand rest atop Aurelius's hand. As he stared at his brother, it was suddenly as if everything he'd felt just now had sucked the energy out of him. He was starting to feel tired. His eyelids were growing heavy. Leaning forward, he let his head rest upon the bed. A moment later he was fast asleep.

* * *

Alastor woke to find himself, once again, in Rremly's bed. Golden sunlight was filtering in through the curtains. This time he was the only one in bed. After a few minutes he got himself out of bed and looked about for his trunk. When he found it he pulled out some parchment, a quill, and his inkwell. He'd just about sat down at Rremly's desk and was about to write to Alfons and Maximilian when there was a knock at the door followed by Rremly peeking in.

"If you're writing to the twins, you don't have to," he came inside and closed the door behind him. "I sent a reply last evening."

"Thanks," said Alastor, greatly relieved. It's not that he didn't want to write and ease their worry. It's just that he had nothing to say except _'I'm alive.'_ "Is Aurelius awake?"

"No, he's still asleep."

"Where are the others?"

"Just finishing breakfast. There's still plenty. You should have some."

"I'm not hungry, but I suppose I really should eat," sighed Alastor.

Rremly took his hand, "Yes, you should, even if it's the smallest bit."

"You're always looking out for me."

Rremly smiled. It was a smile Alastor recognized easily. It was the smile that was completely sincere and thoroughly comforting.

"_Always." _

_

* * *

_

_**Notes:**_

1. _Give our love to Fonzie and Max. Fly safely._


	21. Painful Obedience

**21****. Painful Obedience**

After a delicious breakfast—which he only half enjoyed—Alastor excused himself and went up to see Aurelius. He made his way up fairly quickly, coming to stand in front of Holden's bedroom door. He knocked and after hearing no response, he eased the door open and stepped inside. As Rremly had said, Aurelius was still sleeping. Quietly closing the door behind him, Alastor went to take the seat beside the bed. He stared at Aurelius quite intently, wishing he would wake up.

"I really need to talk to you," Alastor murmured quietly, more to himself. "Wake up, Aurelius."

Aurelius's eyes snapped open. It happened so quickly it gave Alastor a start, drawing a gasp out of him. The surprise eased a moment later. He was just glad to see Aurelius awake.

"Morning," said Alastor, managing something of a smile for him.

"Morning," came the quietly hoarse response.

"Are you all right?"

There was a long pause before Aurelius answered him. "Don't know."

Though Aurelius's expression seemed calm, Alastor knew better than to press for more. He knew how it felt not to be sure if you were all right or not. He was feeling it now. Alastor let his hand rest over Aurelius's hand, his eyes a bit moist.

"_Thank you_," he managed to voice. He struggled to find other words, other ways to express how thankful and how much it meant to him that Aurelius would go to such lengths to protect him, but nothing came to him. There were no other words that could illustrate the depth of what he was feeling.

Aurelius turned his hand over, giving Alastor's hand a little squeeze. "The older brother has to protect the younger brother," his voice was getting to be less hoarse now. "That's how it should have been all along. I'm sorry it wasn't."

Wiping away the single tear that escaped, Alastor shook his head, "Better late than never," managing another smile. "None of that matters now."

A ghost of a smile softened Aurelius's lips, "Fresh start, then?"

"Fresh start," Alastor nodded, wiping at his moist eyes. When he was a bit more composed, he quietly asked what he'd wanted to ask from the start. "What happened?"

Aurelius looked at him for a few moments. There was something in his eyes. It was something Alastor had never seen before and therefore could hardly define.

At length, Aurelius opened his mouth to speak. "He knew at once something was off. When he saw you were gone, he dragged me down there—"

Suddenly an anguished scream filled the room. Aurelius was screaming in agony. It was so sudden and so loud that Alastor jumped. He was tossed backward as he accidentally knocked his seat back. Forgetting about the chair, Alastor leapt to his feet. Aurelius was contorted in pain and was still screaming.

"_Stop_," Alastor gasped out, panicking, hardly knowing what to do. "Please, don't—"

The words died on his lips as Aurelius instantly ceased to scream and writhe in pain. He was gasping for breath and shaking, tears were streaming down his face just as the door was thrown open as Stephen and Mrs. Redgrave dashed into the room, both of whom were clearly worried.

"What just happened?" Stephen quietly demanded as he came closer, looking between Aurelius and Alastor.

"I don't know," Alastor admitted shakily, glancing down at his brother who had yet to move or speak. "I… we were talking…"

"What about?"

"Well… I asked him if he was all right. He apologized for not protecting me before. Then… I had to know what happened. I asked him. He started to tell me and then he started screaming and he looked like he was in a great deal of pain. Then he just stopped."

Mrs. Redgrave came to him, wrapping an arm around him. She didn't say anything, but she didn't have to. Her gesture gave more comfort than any words could.

Musing over this, Stephen came to the bedside and righted the seat Alastor had knocked over. He sat down and appeared to say something meant only for Aurelius who responded with the slightest of nods. Aurelius carefully straightened and eased onto his back at which point Stephen rose and held his hands just over Aurelius's chest. Slowly he moved those hands up and down Aurelius's recumbent form, and while he did, the tension eased in Aurelius's face. His expression softened and he appeared to be calm.

Once he'd resumed his seat, Stephan asked of Aurelius, "What Alastor wanted to know, it's something that you can't or won't speak about?"

"Can't."

"Why is that?"

"Even if I wanted to speak of it, I just can't," he sighed, his vivid green eyes sad.

"Do you want to speak of it?"

"Yes."

For several long moments Stephen simply sat scrutinizing Aurelius. Eventually he turned and looked long at Alastor.

"What happened to end the pain?" Stephen inquired, turning his gaze back to Aurelius.

Aurelius glanced at Alastor, meeting his eyes. "He said _'stop'._"

Stephen frowned, "That's all it took?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It was a command," Aurelius sighed ruefully, turning his gaze away to look at the ceiling. "I must obey any command." His normally exquisite face—with its fine pointed nose and softly sculpted jaw and cheekbones—looked wan and his long normally lustrous red hair lay limp and lackluster against the pillow. There was defeat in his light green eyes.

"In essence, you can't speak about what was done to you—"

"Or mother," Aurelius added.

"And you have to obey every command directed to you?"

"Correct."

"Thank you." Thoughtful, Stephen rose and caught Mrs. Redgrave's eye. "Can you send for the professors and Madam Arden?"

"Yes, of course," she nodded. She spared Aurelius a sympathetic glance and kissed the top of Alastor's head before she left the room.

Resting a hand upon Alastor's shoulder, Stephen said to Alastor, "Let's step outside for a moment. I'm certain your brother would like to dress and prepare himself for receiving visitors."

He spared a nod and turned his glance toward his brother, "I'm so sorry—"

"It's all right," Aurelius reassured him. "You couldn't have known."

Though he still felt horrible about having caused him that pain, Alastor managed a slight nod and a ghost of a smile for him as Stephen led him outside into the hall.

* * *

Several minutes later Professors Dumbledore, Ellerhone, Morrigan, and Madam Arden arrived. They all greeted him with kind warmth before proceeding into the bedroom followed by Stephen. Naturally Alastor followed after them, determined to be near his brother. He closed the door quietly behind him and stood apart from everyone, not wishing to be in the way.

Aurelius looked a bit better—amusing even—wearing borrowed clothes from Holden. He was wearing brown corduroy trousers that were done up with square patches one would ordinarily see on a quilt and a matching brown waistcoat—which had a black and yellow embroidered badger where the lapel should have been—over a simple white shirt. His hair was tied back at his neck in its usual silver ribbon. He really didn't look half bad like that.

While Alastor had been musing over the borrowed clothes, Professor Dumbledore had conjured seats for everyone- even Alastor who he glanced at, sparing a calm smile. When he shook his head, choosing to remain standing where he was, Dumbledore gave a slight nod and vanished the seat. He wasn't the only one who chose to remain standing for the moment. Professor Ellerhone stepped forward toward Aurelius, sparing him a reassuring glance.

She was dressed, as always, in dark colours even though it was summer. She was swathed in a light-wearing free flowing two layered medieval gown made of black and deep forest green silk. The bottom layer was black and the over-dress was green with elegantly understated silver flourishes embroidered on it. As usual she wore her obsidian bat pendant around her neck and kept her long hair free and loose.

"I'm sorry, but we do have to do a test," she said, and she truly was apologetic. There was no wicked smile or dancing eyes in sight.

Aurelius nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. "I would have been surprised if you didn't."

Ellerhone smiled approvingly. "Ready?"

"Yes."

"Point west."

Without missing a single beat, Aurelius's hand flew up, his finger pointing westward. It greatly surprised Alastor. He hadn't needed to think about it or use a compass. His arm had simply known. With a look at Madam Arden and the professors, he could see they were keeping their expressions clear and neutral.

"Close your eyes."

They snapped shut.

"Turn around three times."

He turned three times.

"Turn around five times counter-clockwise."

He turned five times counter-clockwise.

"Point to Alastor."

His arm shot up again and pointed back diagonally to where Alastor stood, drawing a gasp from the younger boy. Aurelius never looked so much like a puppet in all his life.

"Face me and open your eyes."

Aurelius pivoted to face Ellerhone, eyes snapping open the next second. She smiled at him.

"Thank you, Aurelius. Unfortunately there is one another test, and I apologize for this once again."

"It's all right, Professor," he assured her.

"Now, I'll give you a command and I would like for you to resist obeying it," said Ellerhone, resting her hand briefly upon his shoulder. "Understood?"

"Yes, Professor."

She gave his shoulder a squeeze and removed her hand. "Point to the door."

Aurelius swiftly grabbed at his arm as it nearly shot up, and the moment he tried to pull it back down he cried out and slumped to the floor, his body stretching and contorting at odd angles. It tore at Alastor's heart to see it.

"Stop."

All at once Aurelius went slack upon the floor breathing hard, pale, eyes watering. Professor Ellerhone dropped down beside him in a single fluid motion. In the next second Stephen was there beside her. He passed his hands along Aurelius's shoulders and arms, easing his shaking and helping him to breathe easier.

"Feeling a little better now?" Ellerhone asked, gazing at Aurelius with great concern.

Aurelius nodded slightly, his complexion gaining back some of its colour.

"There's just one final thing," she said softly, giving his arm a light stroke. "I'm going to ask you some questions. I want you to blink once for _'yes'_ and twice for _'no'_. Can you do that for me?"

He nodded once again, giving nothing away in his expression.

"Do you know what happened to your mother?"

One blink.

"Was it intentional?"

Two blinks were followed by a scream as Aurelius's body jerked viciously.

"Stop."

Aurelius lay slack again.

"An accident, then," Ellerhone murmured. She nodded to Stephen and they both helped Aurelius to stand. She then glanced back toward Professor Morrigan, "Asta, can you take Alastor down to stay with his friends and inform Mr. and Mrs. Redgrave about the situation?"

Morrigan rose with easy elegance, sparing her a nod as he moved to the door and opened it, waiting for Alastor to proceed ahead. Alastor really didn't want to leave, but he knew this was most certainly _not_ the time to argue. He sighed silently as he left the room.

_They have to find a way to break that curse. They just have to. I mean, if someone told him to jump off the Astronomy tower, he'd have to do it! The person wouldn't realize what they'd done until it was too late. He'll be in danger every moment of every day… which is __**just**__what Father wanted. _

His father was still out there. He was free when he ought to be in Azkaban having his soul removed by the dementors.

_It isn't fair. It isn't right! _

Alastor never felt such a desire to hunt someone down in all his years. He wanted to be the one to find him, to escort him to Azkaban himself. There had to be a way he could accomplish this.

_I know. I could be an Auror. Stewart's dad is an Auror! I can ask him all about it. Brilliant!__ I can't imagine he'll be found anytime soon. Maybe by the time I'm through with training I'll be able to find him. Who better to find him than __**me**__? _

Having an idea—a goal—was doing wonders. Alastor didn't feel so lost anymore.


	22. Lost in the Mysteries

**22. Lost in the Mysteries**

He'd barely reached the bottom of the stairs when Stewart came into view. He was leaning against the banister and staring up at Alastor with a strange sort of expression on his face. He looked a bit worried, then upset, and even guarded all at once. Professor Morrigan swept past them into the sitting room.

"What the bloody hell was all that about?" His expression now one of cautious curiosity, his blue eyes searching Alastor's light green ones.

Alastor wondered how he could possibly explain what had happened, the gravity of the situation, and the decision it had brought about. For a moment he felt briefly like his brother, unable to speak of it all- not because he was cursed but because he lacked the eloquence to explain.

"It's really a long story," he sighed, feeling a bit shaky just thinking on it. "Suffice it to say Father's cursed him."

"Sorry?" Incredulity spread over Stewart's face. "Cursed him? How?"

A sudden shriek rent the air and nearly stopped his heart beating. It was Professor Ellerhone. The sound of her scream carried through the house for another moment before silence descended. Suddenly Belladonna, Percy, and Rremly hurried to join them.

"What in the faerying forest is going on?" Percy gasped, pale and clearly shaken.

"I expect that was Professor Ellerhone trying to lift the curse—"

"_What_ curse?" Belladonna demanded, eyes flashing.

Alastor snapped before he could stop himself, "Father's cursed Aurelius with obedience!"

Either the others knew he hadn't meant to be so short with them or they didn't care. They didn't look upset, only worried and confused.

"_Obedience_? I don't understand—" Percy started to say just as Stewart cut him off.

"How can anyone be cursed with obedience?"

Sighing once again, Alastor told himself to try to explain as best he could. "Aurelius has to obey any order—any command—given him," he began. "It could be something simple like being told to go away or to eat this or that. It could be a silly directive or it could be something dangerous likebeing told to jump off a bridge or to kill someone or worse. He'd _have_ to do it or else he suffers this awful pain- it's like he's being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse."

By the time he'd fallen silent both Stewart and Percy were gazing at him quite horrorstruck, Belladonna was furious, and Rremly looked sad and a million miles away- as if he were somewhere else and witnessing something truly painful. A moment later Holden appeared behind Rremly, winding his arm around him. He, too, looked pained.

Their behavior truly confused him. It was almost as though they knew something, but what that was, Alastor could hardly guess. He wanted to ask them what they knew, but that thought was driven away for the moment when he heard the door upstairs open and close. Professor Dumbledore appeared at the top of the stairs with Stephen at his side. They came down the stairs quickly, while never appearing to rush.

"Stephen, what was—"

"Later," said Stephen, sparing him a reassuring glance as he and Dumbledore moved past them to the front door. "We'll be back shortly with someone who might be able to help." With that, he and the Deputy Headmaster stepped outside, closing the door behind them. Alastor could hear the sound of their disapparition.

Before Alastor had the chance to sigh from the frustration of it all, Rremly took his hand and led him to into the parlor—where naturally the others followed them—and guided him to sit down. Rremly and Stewart seated themselves on either side of Alastor while Percy and Belladonna took the other settee. Holden remained standing, leaning against the archway with his eyes focused on the front door. Glancing between Rremly and Holden, seeing their carefully studied expressions, reminded him of what he'd wanted to ask.

"Why do I get the feeling you and Holden know something about this?"

At this, Holden's gaze shifted from the door to Alastor and then Rremly. There was worry in his eyes as he came toward them, resting a hand upon Rremly's shoulder. Rremly looked up at his brother, and for the longest minute they appeared to have a silent exchange. Eventually Holden gave a slight nod which Rremly returned before turning his gaze back to Alastor.

"We do know something," Rremly said, keeping hold of Alastor's hand, giving it a light squeeze. "This curse is old magic. It's rarely used because it's so complex. It's only used by _true_ dark wizards and witches."

Alastor frowned. "What's so complex about it?"

"From what I understand, the witch or wizard has to cut deep into the victim to infect the body and the soul. It takes great skill and power to keep the victim alive while inflicting this curse…"

There was a long pause after Rremly trailed off in his explanation. The sadness in his eyes nearly broke Alastor's heart.

"Once it's accomplished, the curse becomes a part of the person. The person won't have any memory of what exactly was done. They'll only know they were cursed and by whom, but of course they'll have been forbidden to name the witch or wizard who did it." Holden took over the explanation to spare Rremly that pain.

"_Once it's accomplished, the curse becomes a part of the person..."_

A coldness slid down his back like ice. "There's no way to break the curse?" It hurt to breathe.

"There is," Rremly said quietly, "but that power lies within the victim."

"No one knows how, but it _can_ be done." Holden added.

That reassurance went a long way. _It can be done. There's still some hope_. The vice-like grip that had held Alastor's lungs lessened. It felt good to breathe easy once again.

Belladonna frowned and asked the question he should have asked: "How is it that you both know all this?"

"It's something we have experience with," answered Holden, meeting her glance directly.

Now it was Stewart who spoke up, clearly confused and curious in equal parts. "How do you mean?"

"We can't explain just yet."

"Why not?" Percy asked, brows furrowed.

Holden sighed, quietly. "It isn't only our story to tell."

"We weren't the only ones involved," Rremly elaborated. "We'd have to ask our distant cousin if it's all right to tell you. I do think he might let us tell Al, at least, for obvious reasons, but it's best we have his permission first."

Now _everyone_ looked even more confused and curious.

"Why ask? It's not as if we know him, do we?" Stewart queried, running his hand through his hair. It was clear he _really_ wanted to know. Alastor couldn't blame him, as he felt the same.

"Oh, but you _do _know him," corrected Rremly.

Alastor couldn't take it anymore. "Rrem, _who_ is it?"

For a moment it seemed that Rremly wasn't going to answer. He looked into Alastor's eyes and then slowly turned his gaze toward Percy. He took a deep breath.

"It's Milo."

The silence that followed was truly deafening. Alastor was certainly surprised by this hint of a revelation. How was it that Holden, Rremly, _and_ Milo had experience with this curse? _They couldn't have been cursed. They would have said so._ Then how were the three of them involved? What was the connection?

Belladonna and Stewart exchanged glances. It looked as though they were asking themselves questions of a similar vein. Percy, however, was a bit pale and there was a look in his eyes that Alastor couldn't quite figure out. He had yet to look away from Rremly, and for his part, Rremly had yet to look away either. There was obviously some sort of unspoken communication going on between them and it unnerved him a little.

The front door opened and closed. The sound of it brought them all back to the present. Alastor leapt to his feet and caught sight of Professors Dumbledore and Morrigan, Stephen, and, to his surprise, the Gryffindor seeker, Thomas D'Arcy, heading upstairs. He knew the kind-hearted and good-natured fifth year was a good friend to Holden and Stephen, but that didn't explain why he was here.

Stephen's words drifted back to him. _"We'll be back shortly with someone who might be able to help."_ How could Thomas help?

"You should go with them," said Rremly, touching his hand.

He wanted to say that the professors might not want him up there, but from the look in Rremly's eyes, he felt that it hardly mattered. With a slight nod to Rremly, he quickly left the room and hurtled up the stairs just in time to catch the door before it closed. Stephen drew open the door to allow Alastor inside. "I was wondering when you'd come." He shut the door, awarding him a calm smile. With a pat on Alastor's shoulder, Stephen moved to stand with the professors.

Apparently the subject of Thomas' presence and ability to help must have been discussed before Professor Dumbledore and Stephen had ever left because no one questioned his presence now or what he was doing when the dark-haired and fair-faced fifth year took the seat before Aurelius who looked a nervous. It wasn't in his expression, but rather in his eyes. _That's strange._ He hadn't been at all nervous when Stephen and Professor Ellerhone had tried their hands. What was so different in Thomas trying to help? Serene and patient, Thomas held out his hand. After a long moment Aurelius swallowed, placing his hand upon Thomas' hand. Alastor wondered if he'd imagined Aurelius's hand shaking a bit just then.

_Why would his hand shake like that?_ _Then again, it was so very slight…I must have imagined it._

Thomas smiled reassuringly, clearly trying to ease the tension for Aurelius. There was something about Thomas. Maybe it was his watery blue eyes, or his fair face, or the way he carried himself- whatever it was, Alastor could see that he had an air of serenity—of peace—about him. It seemed to calm Aurelius, though not quite in the same way Stephen seemed to calm a person. Alastor couldn't feel the calm impressing itself upon himself or Aurelius. It was more that the serenity that emanated from Thomas seemed to entrance and hold Aurelius. Alastor felt it, too.

_Why is everyone so mysterious all of a sudden?_

Pushing aside the thought, Alastor watched as Thomas placed his free hand over Aurelius's hand. The moment their hands touched, both Thomas' and Aurelius's eyes closed. They both took in a sharp but quiet breath, paling. The serenity was gone. Thomas' face was tense and troubled, quite matching Aurelius's face. They were breathing hard, in pants and gasps. Aurelius fell forward at the same time as Thomas toppled off his seat.

Shocked, Alastor hurried toward them but Stephen caught him and swiftly pulled him back. Professor Ellerhone had also sprung into action to stop him. She placed her hand on his shoulder and kept it there. He knew they both were protecting him, but seeing his brother and Thomas like that on the floor in obvious pain was cutting him deeply. Eventually, after several more agonizing minutes, Alastor could breathe a sigh of relief. Thomas' and Aurelius's pain ceased. They lay slack on the floor, gasping for breath, a fine sheen of sweat evident on their faces and necks. Aurelius was the first to draw his hand back. He looked away and allowed his long auburn hair to obscure his face as he eased into a sitting position.

Alastor was hardly aware that Stephen and Professor Ellerhone had released him. It wasn't until he saw Ellerhone offering Aurelius a hand up and Stephen helping Thomas to stand that it hit him, throwing his mind back into action. Alastor was about to make a bee-line for his brother when Professor Dumbledore held out a hand to stop him.

"I do believe your brother has endured quite a lot today," said Dumbledore, calmly looking down at him through those familiar half-moon spectacles. "He should rest now," and here he nodded to Madam Arden, whom Alastor had completely forgotten about. Alastor couldn't help watching Madam Arden now as she produced what had to be a sleeping potion for his brother. Aurelius tossed back the contents of the vial and made himself comfortable on the bed. Within a minute he was fast asleep.

In that short time that he'd been watching his brother, he failed to notice that Professor Morrigan, Stephen, Thomas, and even Madam Arden, herself, had left the room. He came to this awareness when he felt a hand placed on his shoulder. He turned to find Professor Ellerhone looking down at him, sympathy and understanding evident in her eyes…mismatched eyes. The right was violet and the left blue. How had he ever missed that?

She gave him a little smile. "You can stay with him if you like."

"But…I'd really like to know what happened just now," he said, and then wished he hadn't spoke at all. His voice sounded so small. Part of him desperately wanted to know, but then…the other part was afraid. He knew she could hear it in his voice and see it in his manner.

Ellerhone knelt down before him, taking his hands in hers. "Stay here for now," she gently told him. "After we've had a few words with Thomas, I'll send him to tell you what you _need_ to know. Only what you _need_ to know, understand?"

"I think so," said Alastor. _At least I hope I do._

Whether she sensed his uncertainty or not, she didn't let it show. Professor Ellerhone gave him another kind smile and squeezed his hands before releasing them. She left the room, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

* * *

Sometime later as Alastor sat beside the bed watching his brother, he caught sight of flames out of the corner of his eye. Startled he leapt to his feet and saw his brother's phoenix appear upon the perch that was meant for Holden's owl, Crumpet. At the same time the door opened. Thomas stepped quietly into the room. When he caught sight of the phoenix, his lips formed a warm and gentle smile.

"Vesta," he murmured quietly to himself, holding his hand out as he came closer. To Alastor's surprise she took flight and landed upon Thomas' arm.

"How did you know her name?" Gobsmacked, Alastor could only stare. Why was Vesta so familiar with Thomas when he was a perfect stranger?

Not at all put off by Alastor's surprise, Thomas smiled again. "Your brother introduced me to her."

"_What?"_

This elicited a quiet laugh from the easy-going Gryffindor. "Your brother and I met on the train our first year. There weren't any free seats and I happened to find Aurelius sitting alone. He was very quiet, but didn't mind my sitting with him." Thomas appeared to be remembering as if it were only yesterday that he'd met Aurelius. "I told him she was absolutely beautiful," and here he laughed softly once again, "and I got to talking about this book I'd read about the lore and symbolism of the phoenix. I thought perhaps I'd lost him with all I'd said, but I hadn't. He rather appreciated the interest and how genuine I was about it."

Alastor couldn't believe it- couldn't imagine it…but then after a little more thought, he supposed he could. It had been their first year. Aurelius couldn't have known Thomas would end up in Gryffindor. Then again…Aurelius would likely have asked about what House Thomas would like to be in. Perhaps that had been all there was to it: just a pleasant conversation during the journey.

"Did he ever ask you what House you thought you might be sorted into?" He had to ask- had to _know_.

Thomas met his eyes as he tenderly stroked Vesta's wing, and when he spoke his voice was quiet. "No, he didn't."

"That doesn't make sense…" Alastor stared at him with some measure of incredulity etched into his face.

Shifting his arm, Thomas coaxed Vesta to alight upon Alastor's shoulder, which she did, almost as if he'd verbalized the directive. "It _does_ make sense, actually."

"How do you mean?"

"He was afraid of what the answer would be," Thomas patiently explained. "That's why he didn't ask."

"I don't understand. Why would he be afraid of the answer?"

Briefly, Thomas let his gaze fall on Aurelius's sleeping form. Alastor was confused to see a little sadness in the tall Gryffindor's profile. Eventually those gentle blue eyes settled upon him once again.

"I'm fairly certain he knew I was a muggleborn. He'd noticed I had a book with me and he recognized the lettering on the spine. It was _Hogwarts: A History_. He wondered if I'd read all of it," he spoke softly, as if he were reliving the moment. "I had, twice in fact. It's rather safe to assume that anyone who reads the book with that sort of fascination and dedication is more likely to be muggleborn or half-blood at least."

He had to admit, there was truth in that. He'd certainly only read it in passing, a few odd chapters here and there that caught his interest. As far as he knew, Aurelius had read it once, but not with any real dedication.

"However, nothing was confirmed. I hadn't said anything definitively either way. It was safe for him to ignore the thought- to put it aside. He really liked talking with me and liked my company." Thomas took the seat beside the bed—the one Alastor had abruptly vacated when he'd spotted Vesta—and placed his hand gently over Aurelius's hand. "I think he wanted to hold on to this one good thing while he could. It seemed to me that he didn't have any friends."

"But he did have friends," Alastor pointed out. "He used to spend a lot of time with our cousins—"

Thomas glanced over his shoulder at him, lips forming a small smile as he, emanating patience once again, "You can spend a lot of time with someone or several people, but it doesn't necessarily follow that they're your friends or that they know who you really are."

"I suppose I can't really understand…" he admitted quietly, unable to help feeling a little stupid.

"That's because you were lucky in your friendships," Thomas explained. "You never settled for less. That's your strength."

That left Alastor feeling uneasy. "You make it sound as though my brother's weak."

"No, not all," Thomas corrected him, and Alastor could see a great deal of emotion in his fine blue eyes. "You brother has his own strength, and he's growing into it beautifully." Something about the deep feeling in Thomas' quiet voice caused his heart to tighten.

_There's so much I don't know. Why is everything and everyone a mystery to me now?_

"What happened after the sorting?" Alastor finally asked after they'd shared a silence that was both companionable and a little sad, their eyes focused on the enigma that was Aurelius Alisander Moody.

Thomas didn't answer right away. He sat in silence for a few more moments, still holding Aurelius's hand, twining their fingers together. "We stayed friends…until the winter of our third year."

"_What?"_ Alastor gasped, unable to believe it. "How- but… that—"

Thomas stopped him from staying more with only a glance. "I shouldn't say anything more. That's something you should ask your brother. There's only one thing more I can tell you, and it's what I came to tell you in the first place."

He released his hold on Aurelius's hand, gazing at his sleeping form for another minute before he rose and turned to Alastor. "What happened to your mother was an accident."

Alastor frowned. "What are you talking about?" His heart was racing.

"I have a gift, or perhaps I should say I have an ability, to see the past through an object or through someone. The memories of the object or the individual come to me through touch—"

"You held my brother's hand," murmured Alastor as he made the connection.

Thomas nodded. "Through that I could see what had happened. Even though your father had sewn his eyes shut, he could still see something of your mother through the tiny gaps between the stitches. She came down to stop your father. They struggled on the stairs, and she ducked out from under his hold, but she tripped and fell. She broke her neck and died instantly. There wasn't any pain."

_She was trying to stop him. She wanted to save Aurelius, but not __**me**__._

He'd known he'd never mattered to her. He'd known it all along, but still it cut deeply. He couldn't take it. Alastor turned away and went for the window. He didn't want to see Thomas. He didn't want to see Aurelius. He didn't even want to see Vesta. Instead he gazed out the window. How could it still be day? How could the sun still shine outside? He felt as though it should be nightfall, felt as though hours and hours had gone by. Why wasn't it dark? It should be dark. It felt dark.

"There's one more thing," he heard Thomas' quiet and gentle voice behind him.

Alastor refused to turn around. "I don't care." He didn't give a flying dragon about how much of bitterness was evident in his voice.

There were several moments of silence before he heard Thomas speak again, softly. "We both know that isn't true." When Alastor didn't say anything, he pressed on. "Aurelius placed some things in your trunk that don't belong to you. I have the impression that some of what you want to know and need to know lies within those items."

He could see Thomas' reflection in the glass. Thomas looked so concerned that he couldn't stand it. Without so much as looking at him, Alastor stormed out of the room. He hurtled down the stairs and launched himself through the front door. He heard everyone calling out for him, but he kept running. He knew there wasn't really anywhere to go, and he knew he didn't want to leave altogether. He just had to get away.

Alastor didn't think of anything. He let his feet take him where they would.


	23. There's an Answer in Everything

**23. There's an Answer in Everything **

There was comfort in the woods. Rremly and his family were very lucky to have their cottage so deep in the woods where it was quiet and peaceful, which were two things that Alastor was not. Shafts of golden sunlight filtered in through the trees and the leaves gently rustled in the light breeze. There was a winding stream; the sound of it so peaceful. There was solace in the sound and he followed it, coming to sit upon the bank. He watched the moving water, wondering if he'd be able to stop his thoughts if he stared at the water long enough.

It seemed to work for the first several minutes, but as kept staring he began to see things in the water. He saw his mother atop the balcony of their home. It was nightfall and the moon shone on her fair skin, illuminating her white blonde hair. It made her shine as if she were a light in the distance. She was gazing at the stars as she did every evening. Alastor knew this because he'd seen her up there whenever he took his usual evening walk about the grounds before going to bed. She'd always looked so coldly graceful, standing tall and still, eyes focused on the stars above.

Seeing her now, Alastor noticed something—something he'd missed every time he'd seen her. She looked just as Thomas had looked not so long ago when he'd been talking about Aurelius. Calla looked _sad_, lonely even. There was no sign of her haughty grace or the coldness that coated her like a second skin. She even looked a little lost. Who was this woman? She was _nothing_ like his mother.

_I shouldn't say that. I don't know my mother at all, and I hardly know my brother any better... and now I'll never get the chance to know her. _

Alastor plucked up a small stone, turning it over in his hands. It was smooth; the water had worn away its hardness. He closed his eyes, learning its features, size, and weight. How long he sat there turning it over and over in his hands, he couldn't tell, but at length he opened his eyes. His mother's image was no longer in the water. Instead, he heard the fluttering of wings over head and looked up in time to spot Rremly's lovely barn owl, Cinnamon, coming down toward him. Rising, Alastor pocketed the stone and held out his arm just in time for her to land on. She hooted and spread her wings, but didn't take flight.

"Came to show me the way back?" Alastor smiled, tracing his finger along her wing. She hooted twice and flapped her wings once, obviously a _'yes'_. "All right, lead the way." She took flight and he followed after her.

_I suppose I must have gone farther into the woods than I thought._

* * *

By the time Alastor came within sight of _Cider Cottage_ it was twilight. Rremly was waiting for him in the garden. He was the only one waiting, and Alastor was glad for that. He hadn't wanted to come back and find _everyone_ waiting for him, to see the pity, worry, and concern in their eyes; not that he wasn't grateful for their obvious care and for everything they'd done for him, but he just wasn't used to having so many people caring for him and wanting to do things for him. It was overwhelming.

Cinnamon flew straight over to Rremly who had his arm out. "You did wonderfully," said Rremly, smiling warmly as he stroked her and offered her an Owl Treat. "Thank you." She hooted after enjoying her treat and she gave him an affectionate nip before flying off.

Patient as ever, Rremly waited until Alastor stopped before him to take his hand. He gave a light squeeze.

"All right?"

"Yeah," and he _was_, all things considered. "Though, I'm a bit surprised there was no search party."

That got a quiet little laugh from Rremly. "They wanted to go after you," he said, twining their fingers together, "but I knew you just wanted a little time and space for yourself. I stopped them… well, except for Stew and Bella. Dumbledore had to coax them to come back."

It touched him deeply that Stewart and Belladonna were so concerned, but he was very glad Dumbledore had gotten them to turn back. Rremly was absolutely right, as per usual. He'd needed that time to himself.

"How is it that you always know?" Alastor had to ask, taking Rremly's other hand into his, twining their fingers without a conscious thought.

Rremly's brows furrowed only so slightly, "Know what?"

"Things…" Alastor tried to define what it was that he was really asking about. "You always know how someone's feeling or thinking. You know the right thing to say or do. You just know things- things you couldn't possibly know or things even you don't fully understand."

There was a few moments' pause in which Rremly gazed at him, a small smile forming on his lips. "Let's just say it runs in the family."

"_What_ does?"

"_Knowing_. Well, that's what we in the family call it. It's really called _Clear Knowing_ or otherwise _Claircognizance_, which is a term more used by muggles," he explained patiently, the smile still playing upon his lips. "It's a feeling of _'just knowing'_- the ability to know something without a physical explanation as to why you know it."

Alastor turned it over in his mind. It seemed so simple, but it couldn't be, could it? "How does it work?"

"It doesn't happen every moment of every day," Rremly laughed quietly. "It's not as if I can make myself _know_ the answers to an exam or the passwords to the other common rooms or other places. It's just that we know the things that are important and that matter at the time or that might matter in the future."

"But you did it right now- you knew what I was thinking when I asked."

Rremly shook his head to himself, his expression one of fondness and amusement. "No, I didn't know what you were thinking," he met Alastor's gaze, "but I did venture a guess from your expression."

"Is that another part of the ability? Being able to read people so well?" Alastor couldn't help his curiosity.

"No, that's my own natural talent, but really, anyone can do it," smiled, Rremly. "It's all in the eyes, facial expression, and body language. It's also being able to read between lines- to take careful note and understand what was said and what wasn't. Another aspect is being able to anticipate what another might be thinking or feeling or what they might do from all the things you've taken note of and studied."

_Anyone can do it. Was that really true?_ "How can someone learn to do that?"

"You mean, how can _you_ learn?"

Alastor stared at him.

"Your eyes gave it away," Rremly said gently. "I also know you. Given everything that's happened, I can see and understand why you'd want to acquire this ability."

Dropping his gaze for a moment, Alastor felt his eyes become moist, as if tears were on their way. Would he ever be able to stop the tears?

"I just want to see and understand people the way you do," he could hear the sadness in his voice. "Maybe if I'd been able to I could have known more about my brother… and my mother."

A moment later he was drawn into a warm embrace. It was comforting… so comforting. If only he could be hugged like this always. Rremly's cheek felt like satin against his, and his fine hair was silk over his skin. The warmth from his body filled Alastor, almost completely, and he kept his arms around Rremly's waist. He had no desire to let go.

"I'll teach you," Rremly eventually spoke, his voice quiet, almost a whisper.

"Thank you," Alastor drew back just enough to see his face. Rremly's amber eyes were lit and glistening. A single tear slid free. He kissed it away.

Looking at Rremly now, eyes flitting briefly down to his soft full lips, he was reminded of something. He remembered a kiss. He remembered Rremly's lips, warm and moist. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time. He'd been so close to death and he'd been afraid, but there was Rremly. He'd been so immensely glad to see him, to be held by him. Those butterfly kisses had eased the fear and anxiety within Alastor. There had been comfort and safety in those kisses. He wondered now if there would be something different if he were to kiss Rremly now. He truly wanted to know, not out of simple curiosity, but because he _wanted_ there to be something different this time.

He wasn't certain who leant in first; that hardly mattered. What mattered was that they both wanted it. What mattered was that when their lips met—Rremly's lips parting, allowing Alastor more contact—there _was_ something different in the kiss. It was not about one giving something to the other. It was about something shared. There was a sense of comfort in the kiss, but there was something else in the kiss; something that caused his heart to skip a few beats. Alastor couldn't describe it. He didn't want to.

A window opened overhead. "Supper's just about ready, you two." Holden called out to them, attracting their attention long enough for them to see him smile and waggle his eyebrows before he closed the window and disappeared, leaving Alastor puzzled over why he wasn't more concerned about Holden's having seen them.

"They know about us," Rremly told him, his smile calm and gentle.

Alastor arched an eyebrow, "Do they know or do they _know_?"

Laughing quietly, Rremly's smile turned just a bit playful. "What do you think?"

"They _know_."

"Spot on."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to it," Alastor admitted with some amusement.

"I hope you never do."

"Why?"

"I like seeing the wonder on your face," Rremly beamed.

He couldn't help the laugh. _Good thing, as I don't think I really wanted to try to get used to it anyway._

Rremly slowly released Alastor, but didn't step back. "We should get inside, but before we do," he reached into his pocket and withdrew a letter, handing it to Alastor, "you should read that."

Accepting the letter, Alastor couldn't help wondering if it was more bad news. He reluctantly opened it and found it was a brief letter from Stewart. _Why does he feel the need to write to me when he's here?_ Reading through it, he realized the reason why. The Pomfreys were leaving tomorrow for Dublin to visit and stay with relatives for the rest of the summer. The trip wasn't only for the purposes of visiting family; it was also something of a punishment for Stewart. His parents wanted him to understand how his actions had nearly cost him the life of a friend. For the duration of the trip Stewart wouldn't be able to send or receive letters from Alastor or anyone else. The idea was that being away without contact would simulate part of how it would feel if he'd lost a friend.

Yet, he was surprised to find that Stewart wasn't upset with the decision. He welcomed it and felt he completely deserve the punishment. As for Belladonna, she'd been given the chance to go with them, as they were her hosts, but she'd declined. She felt, like Stewart, that it was a deserved punishment and her presence would defeat the purpose. Instead, she'd accepted the Redgraves' offer to stay with them for the next two weeks until she'd have to return home and prepare for the new term. He felt some slight relief, however, when he came to the last lines of the letter. Mr. and Mrs. Pomfrey would be coming by in the morning to bring Belladonna and allow Stewart and Poppy a chance to say goodbye to everyone.

Sighing, Alastor folded the letter up and slipped it into his pocket. "Have the others gone, too?"

"Yes. Professor Ellerhone felt it was too overwhelming to have everyone around," said Rremly. "She did say that she'd come by again, likely next week, to see you and Aurelius. She also said that she, Dumbledore, and Morrigan will do their best to keep you and Aurelius out of all the legal stuff—hearings and such—though, you might have to attend at least one of the hearings to make a statement, since your brother can't."

Alastor couldn't help giving in to another sigh. "Some summer…" He wondered if this was what his third year was going to be like: tumultuous, unpredictable, and maddening.

* * *

_It was cold. The air was crisp, as if it were winter and someone had left the window open. Alastor opened his eyes and looked to the window. It was closed. He sat up with a frown. Why was it so cold? Rremly was still asleep beside him, which was quite strange as Rremly always had the knack of waking whenever Alastor or anyone else did, or pretty much whenever something wasn't right. He reached over to wake him, his fingers barely touching Rremly's shoulder when he stopped and drew back his hand. Something told him not to wake him._

"_Alastor."_

_He froze when he heard that clear quiet voice and caught the scent of jasmine. She always loved to wear jasmine perfume. Alastor, with his heart pounding hard in his chest, turned his gaze toward the voice. The sight of her elicited a gasp._

"_Mother?"_

_Calla stood beside his school trunk, straight across from him. She wore a resplendent free flowing gown of green and black silk with a matching cloak. There was a thin bloody gash along her temple and some streaks of blood along her face. This must have been how she'd looked upon her death._

"_Mother, say something please," he felt so little and so lost._

_She looked at him long, her lips never moving to speak. Her expression was carefully studied, but her eyes spoke of sadness, loss, and regret. She raised her hand and made a slight gesture, coaxing him to come to her._

_Quickly getting out of bed, he went to her. When he was standing before her, she lowered her hand. Once again she gazed at him. It truly unnerved him._

"_What is it?" He implored her, tears welling in his eyes. Why wouldn't she speak? "What do you want?"_

_In a moment tears were glistening in her eyes, too. She stared at him a little longer and then turned and dropped her gaze, looking away from him._

"_Mother, __**please**__!" Alastor cried in frustration._

_His plea elicited no reaction from her. She remained still and silent, her eyes still gazed downward. Why was she suddenly ignoring him? He kept looking at her, miserable and desperate to have her look at him again. That was when he noticed that she wasn't __**just**__ looking away. She was staring at __**something**__. Her eyes narrowed and she seemed to stare more intently. Alastor followed her gaze. _

_He looked down and saw his trunk. Frowning, he wondered what was so important about his trunk when suddenly the lock clicked, unlocking itself. Alastor gasped and quickly looked up at his mother to see she was finally looking at him again. Calla met his gaze, gave him a slight nod, and disappeared._

* * *

"_No!_ Mother, come back!" Alastor cried out, waking himself instantly. Frantically he looked around for her, not yet registering the fact that Rremly was also awake, stroking his arm in a clear effort to calm him down. Throwing himself out of bed, he continued to look wildly around until his gaze fell on the trunk. It was still locked. Rremly came to stand beside him, holding the gas lamp he'd lit and Alastor's wand which he held out. Alastor didn't have to ask what to do. He took the wand, knelt down, and touched the tip of his wand to the lock. The lock clicked and he opened the trunk.

The first thing that caught his notice was a painting, a blank painting that is. He removed it and held it upright and caught the name Aurelius Alisander Moody engraved at the bottom of the gold frame. Alastor stared at it, brows furrowed.

"That's odd. Why would he pack this—"

He fell silent when Rremly held out two small volumes: one gold and the other white, neither of which belonged to him. Alastor took them, opening the gold one first. The pages were blank—every single one of them. There wasn't even a name written on the inside cover. Frowning once again, he opened the white volume to find that it, too, was devoid of writing.

"This doesn't make sense," Alastor sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Why would he give me these blank books?"

Rremly touched his arm. "Those aren't blank books."

"What are they, then?"

"They're _diaries_."

"But they're blank. Why give me blank diaries?"

"That's it exactly," Rremly smiled. "Why would he give you blank diaries?"

Alastor blinked and stared at him in confusion. "Yeah, isn't that what I just asked?"

"Yes, but that's where the answer is." Rremly shook his head. "Think about it. Why would he give you blank diaries unless they _weren't_ blank?"

"Rrem, that really doesn't make any sense."

"It does if the writing's been _hidden_—"

"By a charm," Alastor finished. _Now_, it made sense. _Why didn't that occur to me?_

"You've never used diaries. You never felt the need to write anything down and hide it." Rremly explained patiently. "You kept all your secrets here," he lightly touched his fingertip to Alastor's temple.

He rolled his eyes. "Let me guess, my face gave it away?"

Rremly merely smiled, and that was answer enough.

"So, Aurelius gave me both his diaries to discover what he'd hidden?" He mused to himself.

"Only one of those belongs to Aurelius."

"Which one, then?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Obviously not, if I'm asking you."

Rremly laughed quietly. "Do you know what your brother's name means?"

_Where did that come from?_ "Of course I do, but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Think about it," came the patient reply.

"My brother's name means _'golden'—_"Alastor rolled his eyes, "Oh, of course!"

He felt Rremly's hand resting over his wrist. Looking over, he saw Rremly looking so pleased.

"Now, the white one," said Rremly. "Who does it belong to?" His voice was quiet and encouraging. "You know this. Just take a good look at it."

Alastor's gaze dropped to the white volume. He held it up closer. _White…_ _does that mean anything? _Looking hard at the book, he turned it over in his hands a few times. It could have been that the light hit the front cover just right or it could have been the fact that he was looking so closely now, but either way, he caught a glimpse of a design. It was so faint and subtle, but it was there. It was a flower, a _familiar_ flower.

_I've seen this flower before! They were always around the house. Mother loved growing them as well as several other flowers: gardenia, magnolia, carnations, jasmine, and roses—which were all __**white**__ flowers…_

A sense of tightness took hold of his throat as he touched the flower design. "Mother loved _white_ flowers… especially _this_ one."

"You see? There's an answer in everything." Rremly said quietly. "Do you know the name of that flower?" From the look in his eyes, Alastor could tell he already knew the answer.

"Some sort of lily," he sighed. "Can't remember which."

"It's a _calla lily_."

_My mother's name… _Closing his eyes against the tears, Alastor gripped the diaries tightly. "_Why_ did he give me these things?"

"You know the answer to that."

_I can't take much more of this._ He threw the diaries back into the trunk with so much force that it caused the lid to slam down with a good _thunk_.

"He thought he was going to die and needed me to know something…"

"…and he gave you the painting so that he could still talk to you and be a part of your life."

Alastor merely nodded as he re-opened the trunk and placed the painting back inside. "Whatever it is he and Mother wanted me to know can wait." He rose and set aside his wand. "I can't do this now. Not tonight."

"I don't think she meant for you to unravel the mystery and uncover all the secrets in one night," Rremly wrapped an arm around him. "I think she just wanted you to know where to look for the answers. I also know there are other parts to the puzzle in there."

"You know, you're worse than Dumbledore."

"No, I don't think so," Rremly mused, playful and thoughtful at the same time. "Though, perhaps I will be someday."

"It wouldn't surprise me," came Alastor's dry remark.

"We really should get back to sleep." Laughing quietly, Rremly propelled him toward the bed. "Something tells me the next week is going to be _very _busy."


	24. A Funeral Service and a Butterfly

**24. A Funeral Service and a Butterfly**

Rremly's words proved to be correct; the next week was _full_ of activity. Two days later Alastor came downstairs for breakfast to find Professor Ellerhone talking with the Redgraves, Belladonna, and Aurelius over a cup of tea. He'd nearly forgotten she'd said she would come by to take him and Aurelius out. As usual, she looked so out of place swathed in her typical black layers when everyone else was wearing varying shades of browns, oranges, and yellows. Alastor wasn't at all surprised to find that part of her long luxurious hair was swept up and held by a hair comb that had a glimmering onyx bat on it, wings out-stretched and two rubies for eyes.

She smiled when she caught sight of him, "We were wondering when you'd be coming down."

"Sorry," he said sheepishly as he took his seat beside Rremly and consequently directly across from her. "Just couldn't sleep."

He'd kept having dreams of being back in that dungeon at _Moody__ Manor_. Unsurprisingly, he felt Rremly's hand take hold of his beneath the table. Glancing at him briefly, he wondered how on earth Rremly could look so fresh and pleasant when, for the past two nights, he'd kept him awake with his fitful sleeping. Belladonna, at least, had the decency to look tired, and it looked like she hadn't even brushed her hair.

The smell of breakfast was already doing wonders for his mood and grogginess. Mrs. Redgrave put together a plate of eggs, bacon, sausage, and toast; she brought it over to set in front of Alastor, giving his hair a gentle stroke as she poured him a glass of orange juice. He thanked her with a glance and she smiled, patting his shoulder as she went to resume her seat. He reached for the orange juice and if it weren't for having a good grip on the glass, he'd have spilt the juice when he saw one of his strips of bacon floating above the plate doing somersaults.

"Impressive," Professor Ellerhone laughed and glanced over to Holden who grinned.

Mr. Redgrave managed to disguise his chuckle with a cough, "Holden, what has your mother said about playing with your food?"

"Well, it's not _my_ food, is it?" Holden reasoned with a playful glint in his eyes. "Besides, Al looked like he needed a laugh," here he winked at Alastor.

Rremly rolled his eyes, Belladonna's and Aurelius's lips formed eerily similar smirks, but Alastor had to laugh at the exchange. "Thanks."

Grinning, Holden lowered the slip of bacon back onto the plate while Mr. and Mrs. Redgrave exchanged a glance, shaking their heads with some amusement and simply resumed their conversation with Professor Ellerhone about what they'd read in this morning's _Daily__ Prophet_, which had nothing to do with Alastor's and Aurelius's current situation. Meanwhile, Holden and Aurelius were talking about the Yule Ball, which was held annually in the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Rremly and Belladonna, however, were speaking of classes and what new items would be banned by Argus Filch, the cantankerous Hogwarts caretaker. It was a given that Stewart and Griffith were going to run afoul of Filch and his creepy scrawny cat, Mrs. Norris, as they did every year when they tried to smuggle in a myriad of joke items. Alastor wondered just how they'd try to get by him this year.

With everyone engaged in conversation Alastor was able to eat and work up to being social. He ate fairly quickly as he was never one to linger over his food. When he'd set down his fork Rremly handed him the usual Hogwarts letter with the list of books he'd need for the new school term. He made a mental list of other things he needed after looking the list over. He certainly needed more rolls of parchment, quills and ink, and he definitely needed to get a few items for his potion making kit.

A slight breeze and rustle of wings caught Alastor's attention. A tawny owl, who he recognized was Griffith's owl, Corky, flew in from the kitchen to drop letters for Rremly, Belladonna, and Alastor. Rremly smiled and tossed a treat up for Corky to catch in his beak. Corky gave a pleasant hoot and flew back through into the kitchen, presumably to have some water before setting off. Looking down at the letter, Alastor noticed that while the name on it was his, the address was Rremly's.

"I sent off a note to Griff telling him to send post to you here," said Rremly when he caught Alastor looking at him.

"When?"

"The day you ran off. I figured you had enough on your mind and that you'd likely keep putting it off."

"See, that's the trouble with having a _Knower_ for a friend," Holden chuckled, having heard their exchange.

Alastor rolled his eyes, smiling. "So I'm finding out." He opened the envelope and took out the letter. Focusing his eyes, he began to read Griffith's cramped and hasty writing.

_Al, _

_That's wicked that you get to stay with Rrem. How did you manage that? Your parents have eased up, then? Anyway, it's brilliant because I can give you the gifts I got along with everyone else. America's fantastic, well, the part of America that we're visiting at least. San Francisco is something else! We've even been to a Quidditch match! The **San**** Francisco**** Salamanders** against the **Los**** Angeles**** Lightning**** Bolts**! I even managed to get signed cards from both teams- blimey you wouldn't believe how long the queue was! Anyway, I'd better scarper. Ro's getting shirty with me taking so long to write these letters. We're leaving for Los Angeles today and she's getting impatient._

_Hope you're having a great time with Rrem and the others!_

_-Griff_

"Of course, a Quidditch letter," Alastor chuckled, placing the letter back in its envelope. He was greatly relieved that Griffith didn't know the real reason for his presence at _Cider __Cottage_. The Hooches weren't much for reading the papers and only held subscriptions for _Quidditch__ News_ and _Which __Broomstick_. They were on holiday in America and of course wouldn't be looking for _The __Daily __Prophet_ among all the American papers. Glad as he was that the Hooches never read the news, he knew that he'd have to tell Griff soon. The longer he put it off the harder it would be. _Maybe __I __should __just__ get__ a __copy__ of__ the__ Prophet __and__ send__ it __to __him._He was certain that the story had made headlines given the way Mr. and Mrs. Redgrave kept folding it up whenever he or Aurelius came into the room. He'd even seen Aurelius reading each copy outside in the garden. For his part, Alastor had no desire to read them. He hadn't felt ready to.

_Today__'__s __the __day. __I__'__ll __have __to __read __them __before__ I__ send __them__ to __Griff._

Professor Ellerhone's voice brought him back from his reverie. "Ready to go?"

"Oh- yeah," Alastor noticed that his breakfast dish and empty glass had disappeared. "I'm ready."

"Splendid," she winked, "best crack on, then."

* * *

Some minutes later they were in _Diagon__ Alley_. The Redgraves and Belladonna bid them good day and went on their way, leaving Professor Ellerhone, Aurelius, and Alastor standing in the bright sunlight. For a moment it seemed as though Belladonna was going to stay. She really liked and admired Professor Ellerhone, often taking on extra assignments for fun. The moment passed though; she followed the Redgraves, walking alongside Rremly.

"First stop, Gringotts," Professor Ellerhone said gaily, leading the way. He and Aurelius fell into step on either side of her.

It took a bit of time to reach vault 716 as it was so far down below the surface in the high-security area which housed all the oldest wizarding family vaults. While they waited for Hagrock to open the vault, Ellerhone explained that they'd inherited this vault from their mother. Only _they_ had access to the vault, and if they were no longer living all the wealth would be taken; it would be divided and given to St. Mungo's Hospital and Hogwarts for their scholarship fund. Absolutely no one from the Moody family or her own Malfoy family was to touch even one knut.

Yet again, his mother baffled him. _Why__ let__ both __of __us__ inherit? __Why __not __just __Aurelius?_ _Is __it __possible __that __she __really __**did**__ care? __But __that __makes __absolutely __no __sense __at __all._His thoughts turned then to those institutions which would inherit the wealth upon his and Aurelius's deaths. He'd never known his mother to donate anything to charity. Had she really cared for the sick and wounded? Had she really cared about education so much to leave such a sum of money to the cause? Why, too, deny the family the wealth? Almost as an afterthought he remembered the way Aurelius had looked while Ellerhone had been speaking. He hadn't looked the least bit surprised. If anything, he was getting better and better at being inscrutable.

The vault door was now unlocked, the heavy sound of it opening permeated his thoughts and brought him back to the present. The doors opened to reveal a very large and very deep vault filled, almost completely, with gold. There wasn't a single sickle or knut to be seen. Alastor stared in absolute shock. He'd never seen so much money! Yes, he'd known his family was very wealthy and lacked for nothing, but he'd never been permitted to accompany his parents to Gringotts.

He'd never even been given any money for each school year. If he'd ever needed anything he had to write home to his mother and she'd send it along. Admittedly, he'd never had to ask. After that first Christmas the punishments had begun. The thought of having to ask them for something sickened him. He took care to make everything last as long as he could. He'd even worked hard at changing his writing so that it was small and very neat in an effort to conserve parchment. It had certainly taught him the value of everything, but it was bloody awful whenever Christmas or a birthday came around. He got around it by nipping down to the kitchens for loads of food and sweets for each birthday, but Christmas was another story. Bless his friends, they never said anything about it. Not once. They were all in agreement that there was a reason for it, and that it wasn't at all Alastor's fault._Now_, staring at all the gold, Alastor felt happy- truly happy. This year he was going to give all his friends the _best_ gifts to make up for the past two years.

Professor Ellerhone gave him a little nudge, handing him his pouch of gold. He sheepishly took it, realizing he'd been too busy staring and thinking to notice that she'd gathered and divided a fair amount of gold between them. With the vault closed and locked behind them, they resumed their seats in the cart and hung on tight as the cart took off on its mad course back to the surface.

The next stop was _Flourish __&__ Blotts_ for their books. The moment they stepped inside the usual chatter and hubbub swiftly fell. Quite a few people were openly staring at them with interest while others gave them both looks of pity. It dawned on Alastor that their pictures must have been in the recent _Daily__ Prophet_ issues. The thought made him uncomfortable and the silent staring and those pitying gazes from the shoppers made him feel sick.

"Take a photo," Professor Ellerhone spoke clearly and loud enough to be heard by all, "it lasts longer." Her words made some of the shoppers feel ashamed and prodded them to return to their own business, though naturally, there were still a few that gawked. Aurelius placed an arm around his shoulders and coaxed him to move on. Looking up, Alastor could see Aurelius's expression. He was cold and aloof; he didn't deign to look at anyone. Both Aurelius and Ellerhone ignored the gawkers, and as they were so keen to leave, Ellerhone took a place in the queue while Alastor and Aurelius made short work in gathering their school books. It wasn't too long before they left the shop and put it far behind them.

Then it was off to _Scribbulus__ Everchanging __Inks_ for parchment, quills, and ink, which to Alastor's relief, wasn't filled with people. There were only a handful of shoppers and it was easier to ignore them this time. Afterward they made a brief stop to _Eeylops__ Owl__ Emporium_ where Alastor bought more Owl Treats for Vertu, who'd finally returned from Sweden after having delivered the letter Rremly had sent off to the Albrecht twins. They also popped into _Slug__ &__ Jiggers__ Apothecary_ as Aurelius also had to replenish certain potion making ingredients.

Once they were outside again, Professor Ellerhone sent their purchases on to _Cider __Cottage_. "I think we could do with a spot of lunch," she mused with a smile. "What do you think?"

"Yes, please," Alastor was quick to say. He knew that they still had one more place to stop into: _Pandora__'__s __Wardrobe_ which was owned by Percy's mother. Aurelius would be getting new clothes as he had no desire to reclaim his things from _Moody __Manor_, a new dress robe for the upcoming Yule Ball and an appropriate ensemble for their mother's funeral service which was in two days. Then, of course, Alastor also needed an ensemble for the service and another to wear to the Ministry to give an official statement the next day. These were two things Alastor had no desire to think on at the present time. As for Aurelius, he didn't look chuffed to get on with the shopping. If anything he looked just a little relieved for the reprieve.

"Let's get on then," Ellerhone winked.

They'd barely begun to walk when someone collided with Alastor, nearly knocking him off his feet.

"Horsefeathers!" The culprit, a tallish red-head with green and gold-flecked eyes, caught his arm before he fell. "Sorry about that!" He looked genuinely apologetic as he released Alastor's arm and stepped back. "Kinda new in town, you know. I was just looking for Ollivanders- guess I was too busy looking everywhere but right in front of me," the boy explained, looking cheerfully sheepish.

Alastor couldn't help a little smile even though he wasn't quite sure what to make of him. He seemed to have Stewart's talent for jumping abruptly from one thought to another, but he didn't exactly give off a sense of daffiness. He was more chipper, than anything. He also spoke with a flat sort of accent that he couldn't quite place.

"It's all right, really," he assured the other boy. "I wasn't exactly paying attention either, was I?"

"Good point," the boy perked up quite a bit, which was saying something. Then he looked slightly sheepish again as he remembered something, almost an afterthought, "Oh, fiddlesticks- nearly forgot to introduce myself." He held out his hand, "The name's Kin Gilmore, well, Kinnity Gilmore, but only my parents call me Kinnity- usually means I'm in trouble."

He shook Kinnity's hand, working hard to stifle a laugh. "Moody, Alastor Moody," he said with a smile, inclined his head toward his brother and Ellerhone, respectively, "That's my brother, Aurelius, and this is Professor Ellerhone."

Aurelius greeted Kinnity kindly and shook his hand, and from the look in his eye, Aurelius was also somewhat amused by the boy. Then it was Ellerhone's turn to shake hands.

"Do you teach at Hogwarts?" Kinnity asked with obvious curiosity.

"I do," she replied, quite enchanted and amused with him.

Kinnity lit up, "What do you teach?"

"You'll find out on September 1st," Ellerhone laughed. "You're transferring in from America?"

"Yep! Dad's opening a new branch of his perfume shop here in London, so we packed up and left sunny California."

_That's why his accent was so flat- he's American. _

"I have to ask, why are you wandering around alone?" Ellerhone inquired, "Where are your parents?"

"Dad's at the shop of course, and mom's at that robes store, Madam Milkins—"

"Madam M_a_lkins," chuckled Ellerhone as she corrected him.

"Right, that's the one," Kinnity grinned. "She told me to go to Ollivanders and get my wand," he explained with candid cheerfulness, "otherwise she'd be getting on my back about not being able to stand still long enough to try anything on. She said it's not worth the trouble and she'd take care of all that from now on as long as I make myself useful and get the rest of the things on the list."

It was just too funny. Alastor was unable to hold back the laugh. He was about to apologize but Kinnity didn't look at all offended. If anything, he seemed pleased to have gotten a laugh out of him.

"Are you always this open with people you've just met?"

Kinnity just grinned at him. "Yep!"

"You'd best crack on," said Professor Ellerhone, eyes twinkling. "I don't think your mother will be very pleased if she gets to Ollivanders first and you're not there."

He smacked his forehead with his palm. "I'll be jimmy-jacked for sure!"

While the swift smack to the forehead surprised Alastor and got a sympathetic wince from him, Professor Ellerhone looked entertained.

"Hurry then," she smiled. "It's all the way along on your right," indicating the way.

"Thanks a million!" Kinnity beamed. "See you all at Hogwarts!" He gave a quick wave and dashed off.

Ellerhone laughed and guided them along. "Americans are so amusing and have such an interesting turn of phrase."

Alastor had to agree, casting a quick glance over his shoulder. Kinnity was quite a ways along, his vivid red hair disappearing from sight. _He__'__s__ alright__.__ I __think__ he__'__d__ fit __in __quite __easily __with__ Stew__ and__ Griff._

* * *

The sky was clear and the sun shone on the morning of the funeral service in an effort to spite Alastor. At least that's the way he saw it. He stood beside Aurelius and Professors Ellerhone and Morrigan—the latter of whom had been a friend of their mother's and gone to school with their father—at the family cemetery. Between the contemptuous looks from the adult members of his family (Moody, Malfoy, Black, Lestrange, Crevecoeur, and Selwyn alike) and the murderous glances from his cousins, Alastor looked everywhere but at them and didn't listen to what they said. None of them knew Calla Cressida Moody, not truly.

Instead, he focused his eyes on the butterfly that fluttered around the edge of the gathering. The butterfly was so white and luminescent that it looked as if it were touched with silver. It flitted over to him as if it knew that he'd been watching it. Daring to hope, Alastor held up his hand and was so pleased to find the butterfly came straight to it, alighting upon his palm. He was transfixed by it, by the fact that it remained still in his hand. He wasn't the only one who was entranced with it; Aurelius reached out to touch one of its wings. The butterfly fluttered its wings, alighting upon Aurelius's finger a moment later. It drew one of those rare tiny smiles from him.

Gradually they became aware of the silence. Alastor looked up to see that his maternal grandfather, Lucianus Malfoy, and Calla's siblings, Lily and Narcissus, had all finished speaking. As their grandmother, Coronella Malfoy, had passed away years ago, it was then customary that Aurelius—as the eldest son of the deceased—should speak, but he wasn't called upon and it appeared that the others wanted to conclude the service immediately. Alastor looked to Aurelius to see what he'd do just in time to see his brother coaxing the butterfly back onto his hand. When the butterfly was safely in his hold, Aurelius took his other hand to bring him along as he made his way to the front in a calm and stately manner. If he'd been displeased, it didn't show.

His brother stopped at the front of the mausoleum to face everyone. He appeared to be looking at each and every face gathered there, presumably taking time to choose his words carefully. Those moments went by slowly as Alastor stood there with him, feeling uneasy and exposed with all those eyes on them. All the while, Aurelius kept hold of Alastor's hand and gave it a light reassuring squeeze. When Aurelius finally spoke, his voice was clear, resonant, and to Alastor's surprise, openly honest.

"Our mother is a woman of great inner strength who loves deeply and steadfastly. She's a courageous mother who fought for and protected her children. She's also a woman of many secrets and many faces, but she's revealed herself to us. Calla Cressida Moody is the best of mothers and best of women and she lives on in us."

Those words, so honest and sincere, took Alastor back to that night in the dungeon. He'd had tears in his eyes from what Aurelius had said to him. Now, for a second time, his eyes welled with tears to hear what Aurelius said about their mother. He knew it was true. He only wished he could believe it for himself.

_Soon.__ I__'__ll__ believe__ it__ soon.__ I__'__ll__ read__ those __journals __soon__ and__ find __out__ everything __he__ wants__ me__ to__ know._

With a glance down to his hand he noticed the butterfly was gone. Alastor looked up in time to see it fluttering away.


End file.
